


Cuddlebugs

by SecretScribbles



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Fluff fluff and more fluff, Gen, Keith has a panic attack, Keith is on the spectrum, Lance is a therapist, M/M, Other, Platonic Cuddling, adoptive brother Shiro and Keith, just cutsey stuff, like explaining Shiro's history, nothing sexy folks, other than that it should all be cute, something soft for all the hard days, there are some sad spots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-04
Updated: 2019-04-04
Packaged: 2020-01-04 11:59:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 21,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18343247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SecretScribbles/pseuds/SecretScribbles
Summary: Keith needs to de-stress. Apparently, Lance and a new form of therapy is exactly what Keith needs.





	Cuddlebugs

**Author's Note:**

> So this is a little long but I wanted to write this out for a while now. It took me months because I just wanted to write a one shot but I'm just too chatty for my own good and I've got about a million other things going on right now. So, here you go. One really, really long one shot of super cuteness. Enjoy.

 

**\---**

 

 

There was no point in denying it: Keith was nervous.

 

The door stood before him with no obvious threat, but still, Keith hesitated. To anyone else, it was just a door to an apartment. To Keith, it was a door to the unknown, and that was worse than anything. Behind that door lay questions without answers, endless levels of uncertainties, and worst of all: _people._

 

People who didn’t know him, people who wanted to touch him, who wanted to feel him, to become far more intimate than anyone had ever been with him before. People who wanted to do God knows what to him, and expect payment afterwards.

 

Keith shuddered at the thought of an unknown person laying their hands on him and forced himself to take a deep breath. Allura had suggested this and she always had the best ideas. This one seemed to be her worst one ever, though. Still, Allura had never been wrong before, so Keith took one last calming breath before finally knocking on the door.

 

Nothing. There was only silence, and for one scary minute, Keith wondered if he had gone to the wrong apartment, until he could hear the sound of shuffling behind the door. A moment later, the handle jiggled, and a perfectly groomed man opened the door with an even more perfect smile.

 

“Hi there,” the man said. “Keith, right?”

 

Keith said nothing, but nodded stiffly. The man’s smile broadened and he opened the door further- as well as his arms.

 

“Would you like a hug?”

 

“Absolutely not.”

 

The man seemed unperturbed at Keith's curt response, only chuckling to himself instead.

 

“Alrighty then, come on in, Keith. Mi casa, su casa and all that jazz.” The man swept his arm out to the apartment with a flourish, allowing Keith into his home. He was obviously confident, a trait that Keith seriously envied at the moment, but more than that, he seemed at ease. Yet another thing Keith craved for himself.

 

The man closed the door while Keith awkwardly stood in the entryway, struggling to take his shoes off when he noticed a moustache covered welcome mat asking him to do just that. The fact that his well-groomed host was in his socks didn’t hurt the idea either. Said host took a moment to study Keith and snickered.

 

“Would you like to change into something a little more _comfortable_?” the man asked, making Keith vehemently shake his head, and the man grinned somewhat smugly as he cocked a brow in a sudden conclusion. “You’ve never done anything like this before.”

 

“No,” Keith griped, feeling a little put off at being laughed at, but continued to work his shoes off. “Of course not.”

 

The man shrugged, unperturbed. “Eh, you wouldn’t be the first. You’re stiff as a board right now.”

 

“Oh, gee, I wonder why that is,” Keith muttered, but the man only smiled more as he guided Keith to the next room that looked to be the master, where a lavish mattress lay openly in the center of the floor.

 

His hips swayed when he walked, Keith noticed. In fact, everything about this man seemed to ooze elegance or a sort of control over his body that felt almost effortless.

 

“Well, enlighten me,” the man said, then plopped down onto his bed and pat the spot next to him. “What’s got you so worked up? Tell ol’ Lancey-Lance what’s wrong.”

 

“Is that what I'm supposed to call you?” Keith asked, eyeing the bed with apprehension. “Lancey-Lance?”

 

Another snicker fell from the man. “If that’s what you want to call me.”

 

Keith still stayed put, still watching, still uncomfortable. “That seems like a stupid name for someone of your… profession.”

 

The smile softened on the man’s face, and finally, whatever show he had been trying to put on for Keith was set aside.

 

“You’re right. Why don’t we start over, then?” he said, standing up from the bed to hold out his hand for a shake. “My name’s Lance and I’ll be your custom cuddler today. Welcome to my home.”

 

At last, something normal seemed to show up for Keith and he took Lance’s hand to shake. “Keith. My brother’s friend said I should see you. Thinks it would be good for me.”

 

“And what do you think?” Lance asked.

 

Keith blinked. No one had actually asked him what he thought about this whole situation before. It was generally assumed that everyone would agree on Allura’s idea, Keith included. The more he thought about it, though, the more Keith realized how uncomfortable he was.

 

He didn’t like not knowing the outcome of things, and no matter what little research he could find on this particular endeavor, Keith simply couldn’t wrap his head around it. Still, he went ahead and set up the appointment like Allura had suggested. She had never steered Keith wrong before. Now though… Keith was struggling to understand.

 

“I think…” Keith chewed on his lip, trying to find a suitable answer. “I think this is stupid. But, both Allura and Shiro say I’m way too stressed out, and that this would be good for me, and-”

 

“That’s not what I asked, though,” Lance interrupted, catching Keith off guard. “What I do is a form of therapy, and therapy can only work if you’re fully committed to the idea.” He stepped aside to sit in a plush chair off to the side of the room and offered its twin to Keith. “If you think this is stupid, then it’s not going to work. You have to do this for you; not because somebody else wants you to.”

 

Keith took the offered seat across from Lance, but frowned to the floor all the same. “They only want what’s best for me.”

 

“And that’s great!” Lance said. “But it still won’t work if you don’t do it for yourself. Otherwise, you’re just trapping yourself in an uncomfortable situation for someone else’s peace of mind. Sounds a little counterproductive to me.”

 

Lance’s words made sense, but the scowl on Keith’s face remained. “I don’t see how this kind of ‘therapy’ can even be productive to begin with.”

 

“Well,” Lance shrugged, seeming to ignore the tone Keith used against his line of work. “What if we looked to the science side of things. Would that help?”

 

A flutter of excitement built up inside of Keith and he nodded to Lance, hope growing at the thought of finally finding some sort of understanding.

 

“Alright.” Lance leaned back into his seat to sit more comfortably, crossing his legs and steepling his fingers as he spoke. “Let’s start with the big one. Oxytocin.”

 

Suddenly, that hope dropped again.

 

“The love hormone?” Keith asked with uncertainty, but Lance only smiled.

 

“So you _have_ done your homework,” Lance grinned. “That’s the one. It’s also called the ‘feel good’ hormone. But it doesn’t just come from sex. It can come from cuddling too. It tells your brain that good things are happening.” Lance paused a moment to study Keith. “There’s also cortisol which helps with stress. I think that’s what your friends were more worried about than anything else, right?”

 

Again, Keith nodded, less excited now as he considered Lance’s logic. “Okay, so…” Keith shrugged and looked helplessly to Lance, giving up completely. “What do you suggest for me?”

 

The smile Lance sported widened once again as his dazzling, blue eyes sparkled at the question, and it was easy to see that Keith’s participation excited him. Much to Keith’s relief, however, Lance kept from bursting out loud, and simply held out his hand.

 

“Baby steps,” Lance said. “Teeny, tiny baby steps.”

 

Keith eyed Lance’s hand, still slightly apprehensive of the entire situation. Lance sat patiently as he watched Keith struggle with himself and absentmindedly fiddle with his fingers. This wasn’t the first time someone like Keith had walked through Lance’s door, and Lance wasn’t about to rush things. Finally, Keith spoke.

 

“Do I have to?” Keith asked, eyes still locked onto Lance’s hand.

 

“Nope,” Lance answered. “It’s totally up to you.” Then that smile, that charming, pleasant smile turned into a smirk. “But then you’ll never know if it actually works or if it’s all a load of bull.”

 

The scowl returned to Keith’s face at Lance’s taunt. Lance just _had_ to say it, didn’t he? Now Keith’s curiosity would never give him any peace of mind. He had to know. And Lance knew that. Dick.

 

Slowly, Keith stretched his hand out to meet Lance’s between their chairs and carefully took hold of the other’s fingers. It was odd, holding a stranger’s hand. Lance’s skin was soft and warm, and the more Keith stared at it, the more he realized that it was just as manicured as the rest of Lance was. Keith sat there, waiting for some miraculous change to happen, but it never came. He looked up to Lance, unimpressed.

 

“Now what?” Keith asked.

 

Lance laughed. “We can keep talking if you’d like. You’ve got another forty-five minutes, at least. Plenty of time to talk about the health benefits.”

 

Keith sighed heavily and pinched the bridge of his nose with his other hand. Forty-five more minutes of sitting with a stranger. Great.

 

It was at that point that Keith nearly got up and left. This whole idea was stupid anyway, but Keith’s resolve fell away at the memory of Shiro, so excited that Keith was trying out this new idea all on his own. Shiro only ever wanted what was best for Keith.

 

“Alright,” Keith caved, looking back to Lance. “Forty-five minutes. Impress me.”

 

There was that sparkle again, excited and terribly happy: far too easy for Keith to read as Lance’s smile widened across his face. The hand that Keith held pulled in his fingers a little closer and rubbed a thumb over the back of Keith’s knuckles, but Lance stayed in place as he accepted his terms.

 

“Challenge accepted.”

 

\---

 

Keith hurried up the stairs, feeling rather strange as he got closer to Lance’s apartment. Not necessarily excited, but urgent in some way. It was neither bad nor good, but Keith liked it and used it to push forward with his decision.

 

Lance had somehow managed to capture Keith’s attention, which landed him in another appointment. Then another, and then another, and by that point, it was considered normal for Keith to be expected each week. Surprisingly, it didn’t bother Keith to be one of Lance’s regulars by then. In fact, it was rather pleasant. Having something solid and regulated in his life that didn’t revolve around Shiro, or school, or pleasing anyone or anything was a breath of fresh air: something that Keith hadn’t realized that he needed until then.

 

When Keith finally landed on Lance’s floor, he made quick work to step up to and knock on Lance’s door. It didn’t take long for Lance to answer with his usual, blinding smile.

 

“Hey, Keith. Good to see you.” Lance ushered Keith in with ease, but Keith was breathless as he rushed inside.

 

“Hey- I think I’m ready.”

 

“Uh, okay?” Lance quirked his lips as he shut the door, confused by the sudden outburst. “Ready for what, exactly?”

 

“To cuddle.” Keith kept his eyes on Lance as he kicked off his shoes and shrugged off his backpack. “Properly this time; not just holding your hand.”

 

“Hey, hand holding is totally a form of cuddling!” Lance said seriously, holding up a finger. He followed an excited Keith to the master bedroom, watching how differently Keith acted. “What brought this on?”

 

Keith shrugged, but had an answer anyways. “Shiro.”

 

Without any other explanation, Keith plopped down onto his preferred, cushy chair and looked up to Lance with expectant eyes. Lance frowned at this.

 

“Well, that’s great that you wanna try and all,” Lance started. “But didn’t we talk about doing things for yourself? You know, not letting other people make decisions for you?”

 

“This _is_ for me,” Keith explained. “The other night, Shiro and I were watching a movie in his room. We set up on his bed like usual- but then he fell asleep! Un-freaking-believable.”

 

Lance’s face fell flat. “Shiro fell asleep on his bed in a dark room. How dare he.”

 

This caused Keith to snort and shake his head. “No, he fell asleep cuddling a pillow,” he explained. “It wasn’t even that late- barely midnight.”

 

“Oh, only midnight, I see,” Lance chided as he took the seat opposite Keith. “You do realize that Shiro is an old man in need of some rest, right? Let him rest, Keith. Let him rest.”

 

“He’s not that old,” Keith argued, but a smile worked its way to his lips. “It’s just that…”

 

Keith stopped to scratch his head, not entirely sure how to continue. Verbal communication had never been a strength of his and thankfully, Lance had picked up on that pretty quickly, and tended to pick up the conversation when it was too difficult to find the right words. Not so thankfully, he also tended to use that knowledge against Keith from time to time. Fortunately, Lance seemed to see how much Keith was struggling this go around and understood that now was not the time for jokes.

 

“It’s just that…?” Lance prodded. “Something about this was different.”

 

This earned Lance a nod as Keith sighed and leaned back into his chair.

 

“He just looked so peaceful,” Keith explained. “I hadn’t seen him so serene all week. He’d been so stressed out about Allura lately because they’ve been fighting, but he was relaxed enough to fall asleep with a pillow. A _pillow_ , Lance.”

 

Keith hunched over his knees to hold his head, sighing in frustration. It was obvious that Keith found this important, and that finding a way to understand why it bothered him was equally as urgent. The distress in his voice kept Lance silent as Keith searched for his words, knowing that he needed time to find them. Keith always found his answer when given proper time.

 

“If…” Keith lifted his head but kept his eyes out of reach. “If Shiro can find peace like that with a pillow… then it shouldn’t be so hard for me to find it with you.” He finally turned his gaze to lock on with Lance. “So I want to try it.”

 

At this, Lance nodded, a genuine smile growing on his lips as he considered Keith’s answer.

 

“Alright. You’ve convinced me.” Lance stood up dramatically from his chair and spread his arms out wide. “Let’s cuddle.”

 

Again, Keith snorted at the ridiculousness presented to him, but stood up nonetheless. There was an awkward moment when Lance and Keith simply stood staring at the other expectantly, waiting for the other to move first. Of course, it was Lance that broke the spell.

 

“Where to?” he asked.

 

“Huh?” Keith blinked, causing Lance to roll his eyes.

 

“Where do you want to do this, mullet?”

 

“Oh!” Suddenly, Keith became sheepish all over again and grabbed onto his arm, looking away with slight concern. “Uh, the bed, I guess? Isn’t that where it’s supposed to happen?”

 

“Only if you want it to,” Lance answered easily.

 

Keith considered this, then nodded with determination. If it was good enough for Shiro, then it was good enough for him. “Right. Yeah, okay, I want the bed then.”

 

“Great.” No sooner had the word left his mouth, Lance hip checked Keith right onto the mattress. Lance cackled at the indignant scowl he received for his efforts, but ignored it to step away. “I got something for you; be right back. You get comfy.”

 

The scowl stayed on Keith’s face as his eyes followed Lance out of the hallway and to the kitchen for good measure, but once Lance was out of sight, Keith turned his attention to the bed. There were decorative pillows everywhere, with a cushy comforter and even water bottles at the foot of the bed for easy access. All in all, it looked very inviting, so Keith carefully made his way in between a handful of pillows and settled in. When Lance returned, Keith was so buried under fluff that he could only hear Lance snickering.

 

“You’ve made yourself quite the little nest, haven’t you?” Lance joked, causing Keith to sit up.

 

“Is that bad?” Keith asked. “Did I do it wrong?”

 

“Nope, not at all,” Lance answered, the sound of crinkling plastic alerting Keith of his gift that Lance had spoken of before. A soft, fuzzy maroon blanket quickly parachuted over Keith after that, causing Lance to chuckle at the sudden surprise. “I told you to get comfy, didn’t I? Lay back down.”

 

Keith looked at the blanket draped over him with mild confusion. It was soft, softer than any of the other fabrics Lance had in the room, and it reminded him of the spare throw blanket that he used at home- the very one that he often spoke to Lance with about how calming it was to use when he needed to de-stress after a long day. At one point in time, Keith also remembered that he had mentioned once before on a passing thought that he liked dark colors, but to think that Lance may have remembered such a trivial thing was precocious. Still, Lance had said it was for Keith, meaning that it was intentional, and it couldn't have been a coincidence that the blanket was so similar to the one Keith cherished in his own home. But a gift? For Keith? Really?  

 

“Did you buy this for me?” Keith asked, completely flabbergasted.

 

“Yep.” Lance grinned. “Each of my guests gets one for their visits. I just got yours in the mail.”

 

Oh. So it wasn't personal.

 

“You like it?” Lance asked. “I can get you a different one if you don't.”

 

Keith shook his head. “No, this is fine. Thanks.”

 

Lance beamed and basked in the glory of being right, then he waved his hands to usher Keith back to bed before crawling in himself.  “Alright then, let's do this already!”

 

It was only a moment of hesitance, but when Lance pat the bed behind Keith, he finally complied. Keith worked to find his comfort spot again, and to his relief, Lance allowed him to do so in peace. When Keith finally resettled into bed above the pillows this time, that’s when Lance moved in behind Keith. The change was slight, but instant.

 

Already curled up tight into himself, having Lance behind Keith made him very aware of just how out of his element he really was. His arms were crossed tight over his chest and his shoulders were so tense that they nearly covered his ears. What was worse, Keith had clammed up, not knowing how to use his words at all anymore to explain how he was feeling- because how was he supposed to feel? Normal people liked this, right? They were used to it? Keith certainly wasn’t used to this, and Lance knew it.

 

“Tell me what you’re comfortable with,” Lance said calmly. “If you don’t like something, let me know. We can figure this out together.”

 

Keith nodded, still unable to speak but finding the heat from Lance’s body distracting. Uselessly, Keith tried to open his mouth to speak, but no words came out. How did people do this regularly?

 

“Breathe, Keith,” Lance said gently. “You’re not doing anything wrong, but you need to breathe, okay?”

 

A great, big sigh seemingly came out of nowhere. Apparently, Keith had been holding it in, and hadn’t even noticed it until Lance had pointed it out. It was a relief knowing that he hadn’t messed up their session, and it certainly helped having Lance talk him through it; especially when Keith had no idea what he was doing.

 

“Talk to me, Keith,” Lance ordered, not unkindly. “Tell me what you need.”

 

“Answers,” Keith breathed, somehow able to speak now that there was air in his lungs. “Tell me what to do.”

 

Lance hummed as he thought, trying to figure out his next move. “How about we try different positions until you find one that you like?” He lifted one of the pillows in front of Keith’s face as an offering. “We can even try it under the pillows again if that’s more comfortable for you?”

 

“But that’s not normal,” Keith complained, only to have Lance shake his head.

 

“Normal isn’t what we’re looking for here,” Lance said. “Everyone’s comfort levels are different. If they were all the same, I wouldn’t have a business, now would I? Besides, I kinda like having a pillow fort myself. So if that’s not normal, then I guess I’m weird right along with you.”

 

Once again, Lance’s logic was sound.

 

“You’re right. You are weird.”

 

Keith ignored Lance’s indignant cry as he shimmied himself under the pillows. The softness of the blanket soothed under his chin as he curled himself up and resettled into bed. Already Keith could feel a difference, and the tension in his chest allowed him to sigh out a big, comforting breath. It was dark, and soft, and isolated in here. Much better.

 

Silently, Lance lowered himself beneath the pillows as well, and noticing the change in Keith, decided to ease up behind him again. This time Keith’s breathing stayed regulated, so Lance chanced putting his arm around Keith’s middle. Surprisingly, this didn’t bother Keith at all.

 

It was definitely odd having the weight of another limb on his body, but the longer Lance’s arm stayed wrapped around Keith, the more secure Keith felt. It was almost as if Lance had transformed to become a part of the pillow nest itself, and curled himself up alongside Keith to keep him warm and safe.

 

“I think I can start to see the appeal to this,” Keith muttered after a while. “It’s almost like going to bed.”

 

“Funny you should say that,” Lance chuckled, his breath tickling the soft of the skin behind Keith’s jaw and ear. “Quite a few people have fallen asleep during their sessions with me, actually. It’s not really surprising anymore.”

 

“I can see that, too,” Keith said. “They’re basically paying for fancy naps then, huh?”

 

“Pretty much,” Lance agreed. “But I make a fantastic nap buddy, so I’d say it’s worth it.”

 

“Debatable.”

 

“Hey!”

 

Keith snickered at Lance’s response, finding himself more relaxed the longer that they spoke. It was normal, grounding; something he was used to with Lance and their sessions. To stop now would be one change too many, and even the thought of silencing himself for the rest of the session made him tense up, making Lance take notice.

 

“What’s up?” Lance asked. “Need some space?”

 

“No!” Keith was quick to answer. “No, I just- keep talking to me, alright? I don’t want to fall asleep.”

 

Lance seemed to understand and accept Keith’s desire without needing to be told specifics, which Keith was extremely grateful for. For the remainder of the evening, Lance happily chatted into Keith’s ear with little prompting. They switched positions from time to time, both to readjust for comfort as well as to experiment. At some point during the session, Keith unconsciously reached for and held onto Lance’s hand, needing a bit more grounding when he started to feel sleepy. It wasn’t long after that, that the quiet alarm on Lance’s phone went off to signal the end of Keith’s appointment.

 

“No way,” Keith muttered. “There’s no way that was an hour.”

 

“Way, my friend,” Lance replied, holding up his phone to show the time. Sure enough, it was an hour later than when Keith had arrived. “Time flies.”

 

Keith scowled at Lance’s phone, still unconvinced. “How is that possible?”

 

Lance grinned devilishly. “I’m just that good.”

 

Lance wasn’t able to say much after that when Keith threw a pillow at him.

 

\---

 

“You remember those lobster tanks they had in Walmart? You know, before they got rid of them for some unknown, evil-villain reason?” Lance was busy tracing small circles into Keith's arm as he spoke absentmindedly. “I always wanted to climb into one of those when I was a kid. Play with the lobsters, swim in the tank, that sort of thing.”

 

“I did.”

 

“What?!” Lance's eyes bugged a little bit in absolute wonder.

 

Keith shrugged, but he couldn't help the smirk at Lance's reaction. “Mom turned around for one second and I was _gone_.”

 

“What was it like?” Lance asked.

 

“Cold,” Keith answered simply. “Very cold.”

 

A great, big laugh fell easily out of Lance that shook the both of them beneath their fort of pillows.

 

“You are officially the coolest kid there ever was,” Lance boasted, but then he grinned. “Besides me, of course.”

 

“Right,” Keith drawled. “Setting the bar pretty low there, aren't you?”

 

“Hey!”

 

The atmosphere was pleasant, a sort of calm that Keith was slowly getting used to and enjoying. It had been a little over three months since their sessions had begun and now, Keith was finally able to relax at the sight of his friend. Enough so that he finally felt like he could talk to Lance about something that had been bothering him since day one.

 

“Can I ask you something?” Keith asked.

 

“Sure, you can ask me anything,” Lance said, and Keith knew he meant it.

 

Still, Keith couldn't find it in him to look Lance in the eye when he next spoke. “Why don't you or your roommate use the master bedroom?” Keith peeked through some of the pillows to eye the room around them. “You pay for such a nice place but stay in smaller rooms and share a bathroom. It just doesn't make sense to me.”

 

Lance nodded at this and hummed a bit before answering. “There were a number of reasons, really. At this point though, we kinda see it as my office rather than another bedroom.”

 

“But it's so nice,” Keith said. “I find it hard to believe that this is an office.”

 

“True,” Lance chuckled. “But, since I use this for my guests, it's more your room than mine. Hunk and I agreed that it would be better this way when we decided to move in together.”

 

Keith frowned. “Why, though?”

 

“Well, like I said, there were a few different reasons,” Lance said simply, stretching his back a bit before listing them off. “First off, I needed space to work in that my guests could use. A _nice_ one, specifically. Since it's bigger, I can put in more furniture for cuddling, and it has its own bathroom so no one has to see Hunk or my stuff. Not to mention, it's also closest to the front door, so we can keep more of our privacy by not having people walk through the place.” Lance shrugged, coming to his conclusion. “Besides. We split the place, so it wouldn't really be fair if one of us got a bigger room when we pay the same rate. We both have good paying jobs so we can afford to splurge on a third bedroom and still have a nice place between us.”

 

With the explanation in place, Keith nodded, finally starting to settle with the facts. The more he thought on it, the more he agreed.

 

“Okay,” Keith muttered, still looking anywhere but Lance. “Yeah, that does make sense.”

 

Lance wasn't convinced. “You still seem perturbed.”

 

The comment alone made Keith snort. “Wow, big word.”

 

“I am a man of diction and intellect,” Lance said. “Now spill the word beans from your brain mouth and word me good reasons.”

 

It took a solid minute of blank staring before Keith gave up on trying to understand the cryptic gibberish that Lance spewed out.

 

“What?”

 

“Talk to me,” Lance managed to say through a giggle fit. “What else is on your mind?”

 

“Oh.” Keith shook his head. “It's nothing. Some things just take me a minute to process sometimes, that's all.”

 

Again, Lance hummed as he scrutinized Keith. Then, he shrugged a shoulder as well and resumed his ministrations to Keith’s arm.

 

“‘Kay,” he caved, sliding his finger down the length of Keith’s forearm. “But you know you can talk to me about anything, right?”

 

At this, Keith smiled. Purely on instinct and entirely genuine.

 

“I know.”

 

\---

 

Keith was having a bad day. He could feel it. Knew the moment he woke up that morning when the lightning crackled outside his window and jolted him from his dreams that the day would be a difficult one.

 

Rain ruined everything. It made people slow, made the roads slick, made everything harder because it was not an everyday occurrence and therefore, not something that people took lightly. Especially people like Keith.

 

Everything was off, his schedule, his skin, his routine- even his umbrella had been destroyed when the wind blew it inside out. Now, as Keith climbed the steps to Lance's apartment and left mud and puddles with every step, Keith could hardly even focus on the stairs before him. When Lance opened the door, he found Keith standing there on his doorstep shivering and wide-eyed, looking very much like a half-drowned cat.

 

“Keith, you're soaked!” Lance commented, a little on the alarmed side, but Keith mistook it for disgust, and somehow, his eyes widened further.

 

“Sorry, I know-” Keith could feel it coming, tried to shove it down and suppress it. “I know I'm supposed to be clean, and I am- I was- I showered this morning, I swear, but the rain-” Keith laughed, too much air, too much panic. The mud on the bottom of his jeans and shoes marked up Lance's floor and made it worse. “My umbrella’s trashed and the bus was late, I couldn't get a new one, I couldn't wait for the next bus so I walked and the streets- the streets are filthy, but I'm scheduled to be here, I had to be here, I’m _supposed_ to be here, but I’m dirty now, and I can't be dirty, it's in the rules but I'm supposed to be here, but I’m sorry, I'm so sorry-”

 

“Keith, buddy, woah,” Lance held his hands up slowly, like always, and watched for any sign of rejection, just like they had agreed on, but Keith was too trapped in his thoughts to even see Lance. “Slow down, okay? It's alright.”

 

Keith's eyes were still wide and staring unseeing, holding himself too tightly and fixating on the same spot on the floor. Lance had seen this before with his sister, his niece and even Hunk, so he carefully stepped up to Keith.

 

“I'm putting my hands on your shoulders, okay?” Lance whispered, doing just that and still watching for any sign of distress before moving on. “Can you do something for me?”

 

Keith didn't answer. He couldn't speak, all of his words had been used up in his useless rambles.

 

“It's an exercise,” Lance went on, still gentle. “You don't have to talk before you're ready, just think about what you ate this morning. Can you still taste it in your mouth?”

 

Just as Lance had allowed, Keith stayed silent, but he ran his tongue over his teeth. Whatever remnants of coffee that was left and the mint from his toothpaste greeted his taste buds, so he nodded minutely to the floor, still unable to look anywhere else.

 

“Good,” Lance praised. “Real quick, take four seconds to breathe in… hold it… now let it go; two, three, four.”

 

Keith did as he was told, still working his mouth to find whatever flavors he could, but Lance had moved on.

 

“Alright, next up, what can you feel? Temperature, texture, whatever. Focus on that and find two things you can feel. Think about it. Hold it in your head.”

 

By now, Lance had started rubbing his thumbs over Keith's shoulders, trying to sooth Keith in any way that he could. Keith focused on the feeling, how Lance's thumbs moved the fabric of his sleeves against his skin. His cold skin- wet and clammy, but Lance didn't seem bothered. Lance simply continued to roll his thumbs and asked Keith to breathe again. Four seconds.

 

There were cramps in Keith's fingers and when he looked, noticed that they had clamped down over his elbows tight  enough to leave marks, even through the long sleeves. Keith flexed his fingers open and closed as he breathed, watching them move instead of fixating on the floor again. That's two.

 

“You're doing great,” Lance went on. “Okay, moving on. Next up, sound. Listen all around you and find three things inside the apartment that you can hear. It can be anything at all, as long as you hear it. What can you find?”

 

 _Your voice_ , Keith thought.

 

It was the most prominent sound that he could focus on and he had been holding onto it with all that he had in order to drown out the sound of the rain outside because Lance had tasked him with finding noises _inside_ the apartment, so Keith took another breath and tried. As Keith let the air out of his lungs, he let his ears search. The sound of light jaz with a hint of Latin mixed into it played softly in the other room, one of Lance's favorites if Keith recalled. One more thing, one more thing…

 

Keith closed his eyes to concentrate and search even deeper down the halls. The slight sound of ticking above his head caught his attention first, and he opened his eyes to look up and find it. An old, red plastic clock that hung up on the wall counted out the seconds, tick by tick, and for a few moments, Keith watched the arm travel down and around the face of the clock.

 

“Alright, now you're getting it. Already onto the next one, I like it.” Lance's grin was audible now. “Deep breath, again, you got it. Hold… and out.” Slowly, Lance's hands slid down Keith's arms to hold onto frozen fingers, trying to warm them up without bringing much attention to the movement. “You're looking for four things this time. What trinkets do you see, what patterns can you find, what color are my eyes?”

 

“Blue,” Keith answered, still watching the clock.

 

Lance seemed to be taken aback by the sudden answer, especially when Keith never looked away from the clock to confirm it, but at least he was speaking now, and Lance didn't want to deter the progress with a snarky response. The situation was far too delicate for a flirtatious joke right then anyway, especially for someone like Keith. So, instead, Lance nodded and turned to look around the hallway.

 

“Alright, cool. What else can you find?” Lance asked.

 

It took a few seconds longer before Keith could pry his eyes away from the clock, but when he did, he slowly scanned the hallway as well.

 

“Brown boots,” Keith muttered. “White walls… dorky welcome mat.”

 

It almost hurt with how hard Lance held back a snort and managed to keep his laughter in check. He eyed the ‘I _moustache_ you to remove your shoes’ welcome mat and smiled at the memory of when he first laid eyes on it.

 

“Yeah, my friend has a weird sense of humor, but she scored on this one,” Lance admitted with a smile. “It was a house warming gift when Hunk and I moved in. But back to business; you're almost done and you’re doing great.” He stepped to stand beside Keith now and held a hand to Keith’s back. “This time, when you breathe, see what you can smell. Try for five, if you can. This one’s a little harder than the others.”

 

Again, Keith closed his eyes as he went through Lance’s breathing technique, not needing to be guided anymore as he searched for answers to give. He kept his eyes closed, but opened his mouth.

 

“Lavender from your vapor thingy, and your vanilla candles.” His focus never wavered in his quest, determined to find all five smells before submitting to any form of defeat. “Is that body wash or cologne?”

 

“Oh, wow,” Lance chuckled, a little sheepish. “I didn’t think anyone could smell it- I’m not allowed to wear cologne in case anyone is allergic.” Keith could feel Lance shrink a little. “Does it smell okay?”

 

This time Keith shrugged. “I mean, it’s soap. It’s nice soap, but it’s still soap. It smells better than the mud.” For a moment, Keith opened his eyes to peek up at Lance, suddenly a little apprehensive again. “Sorry about that, by the way. I can clean it up-”

 

Lance was already shaking his head. “It’s no big, dude. My roommate and I always do our major cleaning on the weekends, so it was going to get mopped up tomorrow anyways. Besides, it’s _raining_. Mud was bound to get in here whether you brought it in or not. Also?” His reassuring smile spread wide again. “I do believe that’s four.”

 

Keith wrinkled his nose. “Does mud count as a smell?”

 

“Most definitely,” Lance grinned. “So, number five?”

 

With a nod, Keith took another deep breath, eyes closed again and frowning in concentration, when the frown turned to a scowl. “Is that _beef_?”

 

The moment the words left his mouth, Keith regretted them. Generally, people don’t want their homes to smell like meat, and they want people to point it out even less. Surprisingly though, the question caused Lance to light up.

 

“Yeah! It’s the ropa vieja that I’ve been letting simmer in the slow cooker all morning.” Lance was practically sparkling. “Hunk asks me to make it every time it rains because it’s sort of a well known fact that all beef stew is perfect for rainy weather, but the real secret is that my mom’s recipe tops them all. Do you want some?”

 

“Uh-” Keith was a little too bewildered to answer at the moment, so he simply stood there blinking like an idiot for a few seconds. “No thanks. I… think I’m good.”

 

“Your loss, man.” The answer didn’t seem to bother Lance: he merely shrugged and still held onto that ridiculous smile, but then he leveled Keith with a look that was slightly more serious. “You feeling better?”

 

At first, Keith was ready to deny Lance, but found that he could not. Amazingly, Keith could honestly say that he did, in fact, feel better than when he had walked into the apartment. He was still jittery, and definitely on edge, but Keith felt a thousand times more calm. Slowly, Keith nodded to Lance, but his posture closed in on himself as he crossed his arms and looked to the floor, alerting Lance of icy waters still.

 

“How…” Keith clenched at his elbows. “What did you do?”

 

A smirk graced Lances lips, but thankfully, he understood that Keith was in a delicate mindset, and withheld any snarky remarks. “It’s a grounding technique,” he explained. “My roommate and some of my family members have different levels of anxiety and tend to have different kinds of panic attacks, so I kind of got into the habit of seeing the signs and finding different ways to pull people out of their heads.”

 

Keith shrank a little. “Was I that obvious?”

 

“Yeah.” Lance’s smirk fell away. “I’m not gonna lie to you. You were strung up tighter than a drum.” He nodded his head to the door, indicating the outdoors. “Was it the rain?”

 

A sigh heaved out of Keith and he closed his eyes in defeat, nodding an affirmative. Lance nodded as well and clapped a hand over Keith’s shoulder.

 

“Hey, no shame in that,” Lance said. “Lots of people are scared of storms.”

 

“It’s not me that’s afraid; it’s people,” Keith explained. “ _People_ are scared of the rain.”

 

Lance gave Keith a dubious look, mouth already prepared to battle it out with a rebuttal, but Keith kept on going, not even giving Lance a chance.

 

“They are,” Keith insisted, growing more tense by the second. “Rain makes people stupid. They always treat it with too much caution and ruin everyone else's plans. Things get canceled, traffic backs up, schedules are destroyed- it's complete chaos.”

 

The answer changed Lance’s attitude the longer he watched Keith grow more and more uncomfortable just _thinking_ about people in the rain. He held a finger to his lips as he thought, still studying Keith.

 

“So you don't like it when things don't go as planned,” Lance said plainly.

 

Keith immediately locked eyes with Lance. “I absolutely _hate it_.”

 

Lance nodded in understanding. “Alright, well. Now you know at least one way to combat the chaos when it gets to be too much.”

 

It was meant to be comforting, but Keith shrank again, looking small despite being an inch or two taller than Lance.

 

“What if I can't do that next time?” Keith asked, quietly. Too quietly. Lance didn’t like it one bit.

 

Casually, and just as quietly, Lance laid a hand over Keith’s shoulder again. “I can teach you a few more techniques if you'd like?”

 

It took a few seconds, but eventually, Keith nodded his head and seemed to uncurl a little from his body at the thought of having some sort of control over something that had been so difficult to manage in the past. Once again, Lance nodded at this and smiled, moving his hand to wrap his arm around Keith’s shoulder and guide him gently down the hall.

 

“Alright. Let's get you taken care of first.”

 

Keith frowned to deny Lance any sort of cuddle session while he was soaking wet and filthy, but his demeanor switched to confusion when Lance lead him past the bedroom where they usually held their sessions and continued further into the apartment. A few steps later, Lance was trailing Keith behind him with a firm but comforting grip on his hand as Lance walked into the kitchen and up to a cabinet above the aforementioned crock pot. Without removing his hand from Keith’s, Lance opened up the cabinet to reveal a wide selection of tea boxes.

 

“Okay, take your pick,” Lance drawled. “I've got tea, coffee, cocoa, cider-”

 

“Cider?”

 

Keith was going to turn Lance down. There was no need to pamper Keith and Keith alone, and drinking or eating while another person just sat there and watched was all kinds of uncomfortable. Lance's efforts to spoil him like this were unwanted, but… _Cider_.

 

Thankfully, Lance seemed to get its significance. “Yeah, this stuff’s my favorite. Want a cup with me?”

 

It wasn’t as awkward if someone else was having a cup alongside Keith, so he nodded and watched as Lance pulled down the cider mix, then scooted over to the kettle on the stove and stretched to fill it with fresh water from the sink. Lance never once let go of Keith’s hand, even as he fetched down a set of mugs from another cabinet, and truthfully, Keith was a little grateful. It reminded him of his first session with Lance, and how since then, it had sort of become a form of grounding in and of itself for Keith.

 

Once Lance set the kettle on a burner to heat up, he turned his usual smile to Keith. “Step one: complete. Follow me.”

 

Even without the command, Keith would have followed nonetheless. His fingers squeezed around Lance’s as they made their way down another hall that lead to what appeared to be two different rooms, a bathroom and a linen closet. Lance directed Keith past the other doors to the last one at the end of the hall and confidently walked up to a black dresser covered with nicknacks. While he dug around in some of the drawers, Keith took a moment to look around the room.

 

Across from the dresser was a simple, queen sized bed with a blue, striped comforter on it and about half a dozen pillows with similar or matching pillow cases. The walls had about three different cork boards each, all covered in pictures of people of all different shapes, sizes and color, while a huge, heavily marked calendar displaying a picture of the milky way hung from the back of a door that lead to what looked like a shared bathroom with the other room- presumably Hunk’s. A small closet with shutter-like doors stood off to the side of the entrance holding a wide variety of colored clothing and even more pairs of shoes down on the floor, but the thing that really caught Keith’s attention was the far wall.

 

It was kind of incredible that Keith had missed it in the first place, since it was directly opposite from the entrance, but another few sets of black book shelves sat underneath a curtained window. They stretched from wall to wall and were packed full of DVDs, Blue Rays, and a handful of books lining one of the bottom shelves. On top of the shelves was an old, bulky five-disk CD player with even more CDs all lined up on either side of it and even on top of it.

 

“Here.”

 

Keith was yanked from his staring and brought back to reality when Lance offered up a pair of folded up sweatpants and a thermal shirt.

 

“I can loan you some fuzzy socks too, if you want,” Lance said. “I can’t resist those little guys when my toes get cold.”

 

At first, confusion. Keith literally had no idea why Lance was holding up a set of folded pajamas and could only stare at them for a good thirty seconds before it finally registered in his brain that Lance wanted him to wear them. Again, Keith was going to decline the offer, but then he noticed something else: he was freezing. He hadn’t even noticed the goosebumps on his skin or the slight shiver he had going on until he saw the bare skin of his wrist next to Lance’s. Still. As cold as he was, Keith didn’t want to take Lance’s offering. That meant letting go of Lance. That meant being alone while he changed. Alone with his thoughts… No. Just, no.

 

Before Keith could turn him down, Lance was already shoving the clothes into Keith’s chest and walking out of the room, still prattling on about socks.

 

“I got my nephew Sylvio a pair of fuzzy socks for Christmas once- hoo, boy, he was pissed at me.” Lance threw a smile over his shoulder at the memory as he turned to close the door. Keith watched him go, growing tenser by the second, but Lance kept on with his story, determined to finish it even through the closed door. “This was back before I started working this job so I didn’t have a lot of money to splurge on fancy gifts, but the kids didn’t know that. Especially Sylvio. He thought the socks were so lame and kept asking if he could trade them out for, like, a nerf gun or something. So I decided to show that ungrateful little turd a lesson.”

 

For a moment, Keith was stuck in the middle of the room listening to Lance, still staring at the door where Lance had made his escape. Then, another shiver racked his body, and Keith set to work taking off his sticky clothes. The sooner this was done, the better.

 

“It wasn’t that hard to convince him, really,” Lance went on. “All I had to do was give them to his sister and show her how to surf with them on the hardwood floors. Guy didn’t even last ten minutes before he wanted them back and kept badgering Nadia about how they were _his_ Christmas gift and not hers. I can neither confirm nor deny cackling like an evil Bond villain in the bathroom when he started whining about not having any cool socks.” Lance chuckled here. “Sylvio finally begged me to give him back his socks, but by then, Nadia had gotten a taste for sock surfing and argued that I had rightfully given the socks to her, so they now belonged to her. You can’t beat a nine year old with logic that sound, you just can’t. So now I’m stuck.”

 

The cold air stung Keith’s skin, but it wasn’t long before he was covered up again in warm, dry clothes. The new problem now was that Keith was ready to leave the room, but he wanted to hear the rest of Lance’s story. So, the most logical thing to do, of course, was stand by the door and listen until Lance was done.

 

“I couldn’t get the socks back from Nadia, but that left Sylvio without a Christmas gift from me and two for Nadia, so that wasn’t fair to him. On the other hand, if I took them back from Nadia, then I was being unfair to _her_ because I was taking back a gift I had given her and breaking my word. It was a vicious cycle, so in the end, I just went to the store and bought Sylvio some socks and the same set of face masks that I had originally gotten for Nadia so that we could all have a spa day together after a full day of sock surfing. I had to be fair, dude.”

 

A snicker slipped out of Keith and he quickly slapped a hand to his mouth, eyes wide. Still, it sounded like the story had ended, so Keith figured his cover had been blown at the proper time and reached for the handle. A little sheepishly, Keith opened the door and stepped into the doorway, holding his crumpled up, wet clothes by his hip. This caught Lance’s attention.

 

“Here, I can run those in the wash if you want.” Lance took the clothes from Keith and headed back into the bedroom. “I need to do a load anyways. This way it’s green.”

 

Lance disappeared through the door with the calendar on it and emerged a moment later with a laundry basket full of thin blankets balanced on his hip. In this position, it easily allowed Lance to slip his free hand back into Keith’s as he walked back out into the hallway, but Keith couldn't stop eyeing the basket.

 

“Why do you have so many blankets?” he asked.

 

“I told you, didn't I? I thought I did.” Lance looked down to the basket as well. “These belong to my guests. I keep them here so they don't get lost. Plus, this way, I know for sure that they're clean.”

 

The doors in the hallway opposite of the bedrooms opened up to a washer and dryer unit, and while it was a little awkward, Lance still held Keith’s hand as he loaded the wash, one handful at a time, all the while still talking and engaging Keith. It was a comfort that Keith never knew existed. From the new proximity, however, it was easier to see what Lance was handling. The blankets themselves were all pretty much made from the same, flimsy cloth that looked like the two dollar throw blankets in the Walmart stocking stuffers bin. The only difference between each blanket was the design and color, but that was about it. Keith's blanket was most definitely thicker and fluffier.

 

“Those blankets don't look anything like mine,” Keith commented, making Lance chuckle a little.

 

“Well, don't tell anyone, but I kinda splurged on yours,” Lance admitted. “You wouldn't have done well with this flimsy thing. It would have been a waste of money.”

 

And looking at the evidence now, Keith couldn't help but agree.

 

Halfway through loading the detergent, the scream of the kettle alerted them of their awaiting cider, so Lance quickly dropped the capful that he had and set the preferred settings, rushing to close the doors and scurry down the hallway with Keith in tow. It wasn’t the bad kind of rushing that Keith was used to, however. There was no anxiety behind Lance’s giggles as he urged Keith to race with him to the kitchen, and to be honest, it was rather refreshing- even if it was a little confusing.

 

Lance mixed their ciders and led them back to the cuddle corner with the same sort of energy he had been exuding since Keith had calmed down. Instead of laying down on the bed, the two sat in the pair of cushioned chairs and drank their drinks through pleasant conversation. All the while, Lance kept up the physical contact with the simplest touch of his foot to Keith’s, helping to ground Keith without hindering the use of their mug-holding hands. Keith listened intently while Lance walked him through several other different grounding techniques and tricks, and occasionally piped in with his own questions that Lance was more than happy to answer. They had just about finished their cider as conversation slowed when Lance finally brought it up.

 

“There's another idea that I think you would do really well with,” he said, setting aside his empty cup to look at Keith. “Have you ever used a weighted blanket?” If anything, the confused look that Keith gave Lance was answer enough, so Lance went on with a shrug. “They're a little expensive so I don't have one, but I can copy the same effect in a session if you wanna give it a try?”

 

Keith's fingers tapped against his mug as he stared to the floor, chewing on his lip in thought. “How would you do that?”

 

It's here where it almost seems like Lance falters, but he surged through the apprehension by leaning forward to readjust himself in his seat.

 

“Well, the easiest way to do it would be for me to lay on top of you,” Lance said. “If you’re not comfortable with that, then we can use something else to weigh you down, but it won’t be as warm as I am.”

 

The offer swirled around through Keith’s thoughts as he considered the pros and cons of having Lance lay on top of him. It was absolutely absurd, but Lance usually knew what he was doing, and never once pushed Keith past his comfort zone. If anything, it was worth a try, and if it didn’t work out, then they could move on to the next idea. With that in mind, Keith made his decision.

 

“Show me.”

 

One nod later, Lance was setting Keith’s empty cup beside his own and standing to lead Keith to the bed. Then, once Keith had settled in to his comfort level in the middle of the mattress, Lance grabbed Keith’s designated blanket and laid it out evenly across Keith’s body before crawling to Keith’s side. He held eyes with Keith for a moment, his usual, reassuring smile still firm in place.

 

“You ready?” Lance asked. “I’m going to lay flat over your tummy and keep my shoulder just under your chin. If that doesn’t work, let me know, okay?”

 

Keith nodded and even opened his arms in welcome, feeling more confident as the fluff of the blanket brushed against his skin. Ah, so that’s why Lance put it down first.

 

Noticing the open invitation, Lance carefully stretched himself over Keith’s torso and slowly lowered himself down. At first, the weight was too much, but as Lance adjusted and settled, it spread out more evenly over Keith’s body. Almost instantly, a level of security washed over Keith from the sensation that was ridiculous to think about. All at once, Keith felt warm and soft, protected and secure, as though nothing could touch him because he was covered from all angles. No longer did he feel as though he were scrambling for an answer, he was pinned down to focus on whatever he needed to.

 

It was a strange occurrence to explain, one that Keith felt he could never truly explain with the right words or feelings. All he could do was enjoy it- because he actually, really _did_. He liked being held down by Lance. Liked the reassuring pressure on his chest, liked the heartbeat next to his that reminded Keith that he was not alone, liked the warmth that encompassed him completely. This… this was safe and warm and secure. This was perfect.

 

A contented sigh slipped out of Keith and his eyes slid shut in a new sense of peace that he had never felt before. He didn’t even feel the need to speak until Lance opened his mouth.

 

“Need me to move or are you liking this?” Lance asked.

 

For a moment, Keith didn’t think that he could even speak. So instead, he wrapped his arms around Lance’s lower back and let himself sink into the mattress. Any and all other movement was unnecessary, but apparently Lance didn’t receive the memo, because he was chuckling against Keith’s chest.

 

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Lance said, then thankfully shut up to let Keith enjoy this new form of serenity in peace.

 

With how warm and comfortable Keith was, it was understandable for him to start dozing off. Time slipped away a few minutes at a time as he wove between sleep and consciousness, and for once, Keith wasn’t worried about the consequences of letting time go by unnoticed. At least, that was the case up until a roaring roll of thunder roused him from a sleeping spell and Keith flinched awake without Lance on top of his body.

 

Instantly, Keith shot up to scan the room. The sudden movement scared Lance out of a strange pose off to the side of the bed, but even the sight of him so close by couldn’t stop the sudden rapid speed of Keith’s heart. The two of them stared at one another for a split second, wide eyed and alert before Lance seemed to snap back to reality.

 

“Hey, buddy, you okay?” Lance asked, earning a silent stare. “Sorry, I got a leg cramp and needed to stretch it out. I’m here though, I haven’t gone anywhere.”

 

The speeding bullet that was Keith’s heart was finally starting to settle, but Keith still found it hard to speak for the moment. Rather than confronting any awkwardness, Keith merely nodded and began to fiddle with his blanket. It was still spread out to cover him, nice and soft and cushioned, and it helped to calm him even more.

 

Just then, the soft sound of Lance’s alarm went off on his phone for their ten minute warning. Keith tensed up at the sound, confirming Lance’s worries about him still being wired from the rain. Keith was twitchy and jittery, not making eye contact and looking to his lap instead, making Lance want to wrap him up in the fluffy blanket for another round of cuddling. After all, Keith was his friend, and Lance hated seeing him like this.

 

“Would you like to stay another hour?” Lance asked, caving into his desires.

 

The question seemed to throw Keith for a loop, and for a moment, he looked Lance right in the eye as he processed the question properly before turning back to fiddling with the blanket to think. The fluff cushioned between his fingers and visibly settled his nerves, but still, Keith shook his head.

 

“I can't take Shiro’s money like that,” he said softly.

 

Lance frowned at that, but he could understand Keith’s reasoning. While beneficial, the sessions weren’t cheap in the slightest. It was hard to spend other people’s money when you respected that person. And from what he’s heard so far, Keith really respected his brother.

 

“Then stay for twenty-nine minutes,” Lance offered quickly. “I charge on the half hour.”

 

Again, Keith shook his head to his lap and began to pull the blanket away to get up from the bed. “No, it’s fine. I need to go home and study for an exam on Friday.”

 

 _All the more reason to stay,_ Lance thought, but did not say aloud. The last thing he wanted was to add any extra stress or pressure on Keith with a pushy request, so Lance nodded and stood up as well.

 

Slowly, Keith gathered up his things, changed back into his clean clothes and was slipping his shoes on by the end of their last ten minutes together. As he stood back up, hands fisted over the straps of his backpack, Lance was surprised to see a small smile. Quietly, almost imperceptible, Keith opened his mouth.

 

“Thanks, Lance.”

 

Lance blinked, a little taken aback, but Keith was entirely genuine. And while he was jittery, Keith also seemed at peace. As though he had accepted that he would be a little tense on the way home but wasn’t worried about it. So, why should Lance be?

 

A small smile of his own spread over Lance’s face as he realized this himself.

 

“Anytime, man.”

 

\---

 

It had been at least a day since the first snowfall of the year had come and settled by the time Keith came for his next visit. The chaos that came with it wasn't as bad as rain, since the town knew how to deal with it every year and thankfully, he had spent it mostly in his room without a schedule to keep to. It was relatively stress free, just the way Keith liked it. Still, Lance couldn’t help but notice how often Keith would sneak a peek at the window.

 

They had set up cross legged in the center of the bed this time, sitting across from each other with their knees pressed together and Keith’s blanket thrown over his shoulders like a cape. Sitting comfortably like this, they would be talking and enjoying conversation like usual, but every once in a while, Keith would lose his train of thought as he glanced over Lance’s shoulder to the window behind him.

 

“You okay?” Lance asked after Keith had mumbled himself into oblivion for the fifth time. “The snow doesn’t bother you, does it?”

 

Quickly, Keith shook his head, looking like a kid with his hand caught in the cookie jar. He fiddled with his fingers for a bit, mumbling again but Lance was unable to hear him.

 

“What’s that?” Lance asked rather loudly while holding a hand up to his ear and leaning in obnoxiously. “I can’t hear you!”

 

Keith scowled at this and shoved Lance half-heartedly away, more pouty than angry or irritated, so Lance laughed it off. The sound of it made Keith smile too, small as it was, before turning his attention back to his fingers in his lap.

 

“I was _saying_ ,” Keith muttered a little louder, “that it’s gotten pretty cold outside.”

 

Lance looked over his shoulder to the window then eyed Keith for a second. That couldn’t be all there was to it, but Keith had to learn how to speak without being pushed sometimes. This seemed like a golden opportunity that Lance did not want to pass up.

 

“Yeah it has,” Lance said.

 

When Lance didn’t speak any further, Keith grew even more fidgety. The internal battle that Keith had with himself was pretty much played out like an open book for Lance to read, but still, Lance waited patiently. Finally, after a few minutes of silence, Keith seemed to finally find his resolve when he looked to Lance, finding nothing but patience.

 

“Um…” Keith started, looking almost sheepish as he asked. “Can we have some cocoa?”

 

It took a moment for the question to register in Lance’s brain, but when it did, a slow, wide grin spread over his face. Not because of the request itself, oh no, but because Keith had managed to make the request in the first place.

 

“I like your thinking, mullet.”

 

\---

 

Lance’s smiles were always brilliant, but this one was like lightning in a bottle. When he opened the door for Keith, his eyes were wide with glee and his teeth were practically sparkling.

 

“Come see what I got!” Lance said, absolutely giddy.

 

Keith barely kicked his shoes off before Lance was practically dragging him to the room and excitedly bouncing around like a child when Keith made it to the doorway. At first, Keith didn’t see anything out of the ordinary, but then the sight of a big, grey lump in the corner popped up to explain Lance’s excitement.

 

It was a bean bag, but it was unlike any other ordinary bean bag that Keith had ever seen. It was ginormous, easily three feet tall and about five feet wide. A soft, grey fabric covered the exterior rather than any of the neon pleather bags that Keith absolutely loathed, and in the middle of it sat a small, decorative pillow. Draped over the side of it was Keith’s blanket, making it even more inviting. In all reality, it looked like a bed, but Keith himself- he looked like a cat staring down a Christmas tree. Keith bit his lip as he turned to Lance with his own wide-eyed expression and Lance couldn’t stop his giddy little shuffle.

 

“Do it,” Lance egged, and it was all the permission Keith needed.

 

Without a word, Keith sprinted off to the bean bag and pounced as high as he could to plop right into the center of the bag. It was even softer than Keith imagined, the fluff soaking up his body weight much better than any tiny, foam ball ever could. Behind him, Keith heard Lance giggle and begin his own scurry to jump on the bag as well and just managed to roll out of Lance’s way before he landed next to Keith.

 

“Isn’t it great?” Lance grinned. “I’ve been wanting one of these bad boys for ages!”

 

“I didn’t know they made bean bags like this,” Keith admitted, snuggling into the soft fabric as he watched Lance internally combust.

 

“Oh yeah, these have been around for years,” Lance said. “They’re just not that well known because they’re super expensive. Like, _ridiculously_ so.” Lance rolled over onto his side and scooched closer to Keith, nearly nose to nose. “I never thought the price was worth it until he said to go for it.”

 

Keith blinked, confused. “Who did? Hunk?”

 

“Hmm? Oh!” Lance’s eyes widened once he realized his mistake, but he quickly grinned it off. “My bad, dude. It’s actually kind of a cool story.” Lance snuggled deeper into the bag but kept eyes with Keith for his explanation. “I told you about how Hunk owns his own restaurant, right? Well, a lot of the time I help him out when he’s understaffed. I’ve got this regular that comes in all the time and I freaking _love_ the guy; he’s just so sweet, like an uncle or something. Anyway, he likes me too and he tends to tip really well, but this last time he tipped an extra hundred on top of the bill and told me to treat myself.” Lance wiggled his eyebrows “So I did.”

 

“Wow.” Keith was wide-eyed with wonder still. “That was really cool of him. Did he say why?”

 

Lance nodded. “He said that I reminded him of his son, and that he really liked me. It was his son’s anniversary, and since he couldn’t be with him, he decided to celebrate with me.”

 

At this, Keith’s expression dimmed. The timing was a little too coincidental for his liking, and the more Lance spoke, the more it sounded like someone that Keith knew.

 

“... This happened last week?” Keith asked, earning a nod.

 

“This guy,” Keith said slowly. “What did he look like? Do you know his name?”

 

The most adorable hum of affirmation came from Lance, his eyes still glittering. “He’s got this crazy red hair, almost orange even, and an awesome mustache. I’m pretty sure he’s foreign because he has a funny accent and-” It was here Lance’s chipper mood dimmed with a quirk of the lips. “Well, I know his name, but I’d rather not share it if that’s okay.”

 

“Is it Coran?” Keith asked, completely ignoring Lance’s request.

 

The shock was enough to give Lance pause, however, and he blinked in surprise.

 

“You know Coran?” Lance asked.

 

“He is an uncle. Allura's uncle,” Keith explained. “Kind of mine too but, not really? He's been around for a while and he's friends with my mom. I've known him for years.”

 

“Oh, wow!” Lance crowed. “That’s so cool! Did you tell him about the restaurant? I bet that’s why he came. I guess I have you to thank for that then, huh?” Bright, blue eyes squeezed shut with a chuckle before snapping back open. “So how is Coran? Did he get to see his son?”

 

“Adam’s dead.”

 

It hadn’t even taken a second. The shocked expression that Lance had been sporting dropped all pretense of amazement and it was that very moment when Keith realized he had messed up again. He hadn’t meant to say it so bluntly, it was just sort of obvious. Thinking about it now, it was even more obvious that Lance hadn’t been around for the past couple decades to know that.

 

“I mean-” Keith tried to soften the blow as best he could, but he was drawing a blank, so facts were the way to go. “Car crash- uh. Drunk driver, middle of the night, that sort of thing. It happened a long time ago and it was sudden, so nobody really bothers to talk about it anymore. Plus, it upsets Shiro and Coran, so-” The confused look Keith received from that comment rerouted his explanation once again. “Fiancé. They were supposed to get married a few months later but that didn’t happen. Obviously.”

 

Another thought hit Keith and had to be spit out because suddenly Lance needed to know every fact about what happened in order to understand.

 

“Also, the whole physical therapy thing kind of got in the way?” Keith went on. “Shiro’s arm was trashed from hitting the side of the tunnel and they tried to save it but it still had to be amputated so-”

 

“Wow, okay, I missed a lot there,” Lance breathed.

 

“Sorry,” Keith said, cringing a little, but Lance waved him off.

 

“Nah, man, I’m glad you told me. It’s just-” Lance chewed on his lip a little as he looked away in thought. “I feel kind of bad now. Coran’s such a nice guy, and from what you told me about Shiro… None of this should have happened. Not to them.” He looked to Keith earnestly. “And what about you? Were you close with Adam?”

 

At this, Keith quirked his mouth in a sort of confused gesture, thinking hard on his answer in the span of a few seconds. “Kind of? I mean, he was always nice to me growing up and he made Shiro happy. He was a good guy but he was always focused on the issue in front of him and didn’t really bother with the little things going on around him, which included me. I actually liked that about him…”

 

Keith’s eyes drifted away the more he thought, making Lance prod for him to continue.

 

“I um…” Keith shrank into himself, trying to think of how to explain his thought process in the least offensive way, but then he stopped. This was Lance. Lance who always listened, almost always had an answer and never judged- not seriously, anyways. Keith could tell Lance anything and know it would be alright in the end, so he did. “I still don’t really know how to feel about it.”

 

The open look he received only made Keith continue further, just as he had expected from Lance.

 

“I know it’s sad, and it is, I was upset when we got the news, but… I was kind of numb, too. Like, I didn’t know how to react or what to feel. It was a shock; no one was expecting it to happen, but it did. And Shiro…” The confidence Keith had gradually grown over the last few sentences began to dwindle at the memory of Shiro, taped together with too many layers of gauze in the hospital bed, crouched over his knees with his head in his uninjured hand and sobbing with absolute abandon. It was enough to make Keith swallow back tears of his own, but he carried on nonetheless. “I’d never had to hold my brother together before until that night. He completely fell apart and I couldn’t do anything for him but hold him. I was totally useless…”

 

Next up came the question that Keith had been stressing over for years. Even with Shiro, he wasn’t sure if he could ever ask or even admit what Keith had been worried about for so long, but it had been eating away at him for half a decade now and… Lance never judged.

 

Slowly, Keith took a breath and looked to Lance openly. “Am I wrong for feeling more upset about that than Adam’s death?”

 

Lance’s gaze never wavered as he slipped his hand up and laced his fingers with Keith’s. He gave Keith’s hand a good squeeze and smiled softly, taking a moment to consider his own words as well, but never once did he look away, or give off a feeling of disgust or hatred or shame- anything that Keith had been worried about or feeling towards himself. Lance simply stared at Keith and offered a shrug after a few moments of pondering.

 

“I don’t think so,” Lance whispered honestly. “But really, the only one who can decide that is you. Personally, I think your connection with Shiro was and always will be a lot stronger than with anyone else. So seeing him so distraught upset you too, more than anything else that could have happened.” He tightened his grip on Keith’s hand, eyes still holding strong. “It might always be that way, it might change. Sorry to say, you can’t predict the future with stuff like that.”

 

Before Keith could spiral again, Lance tugged Keith’s hand a little closer to himself and rubbed his thumb over the back of Keith’s knuckles, still keeping eyes.

 

“That doesn’t mean it’s a good or bad thing; it just means you love your brother and haven’t found anyone or anything that you love more than him yet.” Lance smiled a little, almost in a knowing sort of way. “That’s another future thing you can’t predict.”

 

It was annoying, but it was also an answer that Keith could get behind. As much as he hated it, Keith couldn’t change the past and he couldn’t control the future, so once again, Lance’s logic helped him to recover a bit of lost sanity.

 

Keith took a deep, slow breath and released it just as slowly in a sigh through his nose, nodding agreement but not really keeping eyes with Lance anymore since falling back into his thoughts. Then, after a moment, Keith’s eyebrows rose.

 

“We got really deep really quick. Sorry about that,” Keith said.

 

“Hey, c’mon,” Lance replied with a grin. “Who else are you gonna talk to about this stuff, your therapist?”

 

Without any warning, Keith snorted and fell into a fit of giggles that Lance quickly joined in on. The funny thing was, Keith had spoken to his therapist about it before, but had never felt quite as at ease after confessing his fears. It was odd, but at the same time, it was expected. Lance always made Keith feel relaxed.

 

“Alright, enough with the heavy stuff,” Keith said finally after a hefty giggle round. “I know you have a story for me about buying this huge thing; at _least_ tell me how you struggled to get it up three flights of stairs.”

 

Lance’s eyes lit up. “Oh, man, you wanna talk heavy? I’ll give you heavy- and now, after an emergency run to the hardware store, sixty feet of hemp rope, too.”

 

\---

 

“Christmas is coming up. Do you have plans?” Lance asked as Keith set down his bag and began taking off his shoes.

 

“Mom made it back from Afghanistan and wants to try cooking again,” Keith said. “So we’re going to have dinner with Coran and Allura once we put the fires out.”

 

Lance burst into laughter and fell behind as Keith made his way to the bedroom, but he caught up a moment later, still snickering and making Keith smile as well.

 

“What about you?” Keith asked. “What are your plans for the holidays?”

 

It took a moment but Lance was able to compose himself long enough to answer. “Cuba with the family until new years. You got my email, right? You gonna be okay?”

 

“Yeah, I’ll be fine,” Keith answered. “With school out of the way, it won’t be so stressful until the new semester starts.”

 

By all rights, having his schedule completely changed not only with school, but with Lance as well; it should have been a major stressor for him. Had it been several years previous, Keith would have been a mess at the idea of not having structure anymore, but Keith was entirely honest when he answered Lance. Most of it was due to years of settling his anxiety but lately, Keith had Lance to thank for calming him down as well.

 

“Alright, well, you have my number if you need it,” Lance said, plopping down beside Keith to build their latest pillow fort. “Call, text, email; whatever. Anything, anytime. I’m here.”

 

“No, you’re in Cuba,” Keith said.

 

Immediately, Lance leaned back with a hand on his heart and a wrist to his forehead. “Scorned by facts and logic, how could I be so betrayed?”

 

Keith laughed openly and freely, glad for the bubbling in his chest that happened every time he did. He settled under the pillows and his blanket, still chuckling lightly as Lance came up behind him and wrapped him up in a hug. So safe, so warm, so understanding. Keith couldn’t have asked for a better companion.

 

“Thanks, Lance.”

 

\---

 

The new year came and went without a hitch and just as promised, both Lance and Keith had kept in touch over the holiday break. Keith told Lance of all the kitchen horrors his mother had subjected him and his brother to, and Lance kept up a live feed review of the telanova drama between each of his aunts before his grandmother yelled at them and threatened them with a broom. Honestly, it was the most thrilling story Keith had ever heard and he was captivated by his phone with each new text sent his way. Now, Keith was back in Lance’s apartment once again and it felt like no time had passed at all since their last visit.

 

“Hey, Lance?” Keith actually looked him in the eye for this. “Has anyone ever asked you how you like to cuddle?”

 

The question caught Lance off guard, as Keith had a habit of doing, and for a moment, he stood there under Keith’s gaze as he tried to figure out an answer for him. The longer he tried, though, the more Lance came to a conclusion.

 

“First timer’s have asked my opinion but, other than that, no, not really,” Lance said.

 

Keith nodded and headed for the master bedroom. “Alright then, show me. Let’s cuddle.”

 

Again, Lance was trapped in place, stunned yet again by the actions of Keith. He gaped at Keith incredulously, jaw literally dropped and eyes slit before he composed himself with a shake of his head.

 

“Uh, thanks but, no,” Lance said matter of factly. “This is your session. I’m supposed to do what you want.”

 

Keith nodded, undeterred. “Ok, well, I want to do what you want to do.”

 

Lance stood staring, _again_. Trapped in a loop of doing his job and doing what Keith wanted because Keith wanted to do Lance’s job. For a solid thirty seconds, Lance fought to find a way out of the loop, but it only led back to the same conclusion every time.

 

“...Crap.”

 

With that, Keith smirked at Lance and waved his arms over to the master bedroom doorway. Lance, in response, tapped his foot in irritation, standing in place still for a few seconds more with his hands placed firmly at his hips.

 

“Alright, fine. If we’re gonna do this, we’re gonna do this right,” Lance caved, then spread his arms out wide. “I want a hug.”

 

Keith didn’t even flinch, just spread his arms open and accepted Lance for a full body bear hug that may have lasted a second or two longer than it should have.

 

“Is this what Hunk’s hugs are like?” Keith asked.

 

“Oh, no way,” Lance said, finally pulling back and stepping into the bedroom. “Hunk has the best hugs because Hunk is the best period. No one can beat best friend hugs.”

 

“Tell me what you really think,” Keith said sarcastically, but Lance ignored the sass and did just that as he plopped down onto the bean bag.

 

“You think I’m joking, but it couldn’t be closer to the truth,” Lance proclaimed with a finger. “No one could ever beat Hunk as a best friend; even I pale in comparison.”

 

Keith crawled onto the bean bag beside Lance and allowed himself to be adjusted as Lance desired, ending up on his back with his heels flat on the fluff and bending his knees for him. “I don’t know, you’re not too bad for my first best friend.”

 

“What about Shiro?” Lance asked as he curled up with his legs tucked beneath Keith’s thighs and twisted his torso to wrap his arms beneath Keith’s shoulders and lay his head over Keith’s chest.

 

“Brothers don’t count,” Keith said simply.

 

“Well then, as an honorary brother, I guess Hunk doesn’t count either,” Lance replied. “Looks like we’re stuck with each other.”

 

“Oh, the horror,” Keith droned. Then, after a moment, he looked down to the curled up man over his body. “This okay? Need me to do anything?”

 

Lance hummed in thought. Honestly, he had never really paid attention to his preferences when he was with a guest, so he was a little lost as to what he wanted in that moment. Still, being wrapped up over Keith was nice, feeling his warmth, smelling his shampoo, listening to his heartbeat; it was all just so pleasant, but Lance knew that it could be even better.

 

Quickly, Lance hopped up from their cuddle puddle and held a finger up to Keith when he earned a confused look. A second later, Lance returned with Keith’s blanket and resumed his previous position snuggling up into a ball on top of Keith, wrapping himself up in the soft fabric and letting the left over drape down across Keith.

 

“Put your arms around me,” Lance said. “Maybe some motion? Like when I play with your fingers or rub your arms.”

 

Quietly, Keith nodded and did as he was asked, first locking his fingers together around Lance’s hip before realizing that this would keep him from touching Lance. So, after a moment of hesitation and debate, Keith left one hand on Lance’s hip and raised the other to scratch his fingers through Lance’s hair. The reaction was immediate. Almost like a puppy, Lance sighed in delight and practically melted into Keith’s torso. His eyes closed and a lazy smile drew up over his lips.

 

In all honesty, Keith liked this form of cuddling as well, almost as much as any of his other sessions. The weight and warmth of Lance over his body was comforting, even if it wasn’t entirely over every inch of him, and knowing that Lance was so content because of something that Keith did- that in and of itself was a magic of its own.

 

“If I’m not careful, you’re going to take my job,” Lance drawled, eyes still closed and smile still in place.

 

Keith chuckled at this. “Thanks but, I think I’ll leave that position to you. I don’t think I could ever do this with anybody else.”

 

Lance’s eyebrows rose. “Shiro?”

 

“Well…” Keith considered the question before deciding on his answer. “Yes and no. We can touch and cuddle but… nothing this intimate.”

 

Unsurprisingly, Lance nodded in understanding.

 

“It’s different for everybody,” Lance said, nuzzling deeper into Keith and nearly purring in delight from the head scritches.

 

“Even me?” Keith asked.

 

“Especially with you,” Lance answered, then he finally opened his eyes to look up at Keith with all honesty. “I can’t talk to any of my guests like I can with you… You’re different, Keith. In a good way.” He stopped to smile. “In the _best_ way.”

 

A little stunned, Keith blinked at Lance for a moment before he settled back into the bag as well, fighting off a small smile.

 

“My best friend thinks I’m a great cuddler. I guess I can live with that.”

 

\---

 

“So your mom's back overseas?” Lance asked, earning a nod.

 

“Yeah, Shiro dropped her off at the airport this morning,” Keith replied as he allowed Lance to dig his fingers into Keith's back for their session.

 

Lance frowned and resumed stroking a firm line up and down Keith's spine with his thumbs. “That sucks; I'm sorry, man.”

 

“It's okay,” Keith said, shaking his head. “Her leave was a lot longer this time around so we got to see her more than usual.” He shrugged, almost knocking a pillow off the bed by accident. “Besides, she's doing a lot of good over there. It's not as scary to think about when you know she's doing relief work rather than chasing down rifles, you know?”

 

Reluctantly, Lance nodded, though the grimace on his face proved that he was not convinced one bit. “I guess that makes sense. How long has she been a soldier?”

 

Keith hummed in thought, trying to do the math in his head. “My whole life? Longer? She had to stop for a few years when my dad died and even then, she was doing as much as she could while she was stateside. That's how she met Shiro.”

 

“Oh yeah, I forgot that he was adopted,” Lance mumbled, then furrowed his brow. “But wait, how did that work?”

 

It took a moment for Lance to receive his answer, mainly because he had found a knot in Keith's shoulder and he became distracted by it. Enough to have almost missed the reply completely.

 

“His mom was sick and his dad died in action,” Keith explained, wincing when Lance rubbed too hard. “Mom was friends with Shiro’s dad and promised that if anything happened to him that she'd help out his family however she could.” He breathed out a sigh when Lance finished with the knot and switched to the other shoulder. “When mom came home, she looked up the Shiroganes and stuck to her word. Then Mrs. Shirogane got worse, so she sold the house and everything in it, and Shiro stayed with us. We visited her in the hospital every day after school. By the time she died, they had already worked it out to have Shiro adopted into our family, and whatever money they made from selling the house and stuff went into his college fund.”

 

It was here when Keith grew quiet, pausing in his rambles as realization dawned on him. “You know, for a fifteen year old, he handled it pretty well. I mean, it was hard enough for me when my dad died, but if I had lost mom too… I don't think I would have survived.” He looked over his shoulder to catch eyes with Lance. “The only reason I was okay when she went back in action was because I had Shiro.”

 

Lance stopped his massage and joined Keith in his epiphany with a quirk of his lips. “Makes it easy to see why you admire him so much. He really is amazing.”

 

With a blink and a light of recognition in his eye, Keith couldn't stop the small smile that tilted his lips.

 

“He really is.”

 

\---

 

“Woah.”

 

Keith watched Lance with a well trained eye. If anybody else had taken a gander at Lance, they wouldn’t have noticed anything out of the ordinary. As always, Lance was pristine in his hygiene, perfectly pampered and lovely all the way through. However, Keith could see every single flaw that was marked out of place in an instant.

 

The usual bright, blue eyes were dulled along with Lance’s trademark smile, his tone was forced and slightly out of breath with not nearly enough energy as usual, and his speed was at least halved with how sluggish he looked. Lance was tired and he hid it well, but not well enough for Keith.

 

“You look like crap,” Keith said bluntly.

 

Lance cocked a brow at this and some of the fire in him returned, but only for a split second.

 

“So very kind of you to say, buddy ol’ pal,” Lance sassed as he closed the door behind Keith. “I always look fabulous and you freaking know it.”

 

“Not today,” Keith replied, kicking off his shoes. “You look worn out. What’s going on?”

 

Honestly, had it been anyone else, Lance would have continued on with his charade, but this was Keith. Not only could he not hide anything from him, Keith could call him out in a second without any evidence to prove otherwise and still win. So, dragging a hand down his face with a tired sigh, Lance caved.

 

“I’ve been pulling extra shifts at Hunk’s restaurant for a while,” Lance answered. “Looks like I’m going to have to do it for a few more weeks too if I want to keep up.”

 

Keith crossed his arms, confused. “I thought you and Hunk were doing alright? Is he understaffed again?”

 

“Yes and no; Hunk’s always understaffed with the troublesome trio,” Lance said with a glare that was too genuine to hide at the mention of Hunk’s less than stellar employees. “We’re normally good, but winter is usually the toughest part of the year. Rent, utilities, groceries, student loans and Christmas for each and every one of my friends and family members.” This time, Lance dragged both of his hand up his face and through his hair to hold the back of his head. “Add onto the fact that I skipped work for a few weeks to spend some very expensive holidays abroad _with_ them- I’m having to work extra for the next few weeks just to catch up again.”

 

“Yikes,” Keith muttered, eyeing Lance and not liking what he saw. He remembered the gift that Lance had given him as well and knew for a fact that Lance’s taste refused to buy anything less than fancy, so he could only assume that Lance’s expensive taste spread over to his family as well. If that were the case, Lance was doomed. “Okay, that’s it. We’re doing your cuddle theme today.”

 

“Keith-”

 

“No buts. Get on the bag.” Keith jerked a thumb behind him and watched as Lance marched into the bedroom, grumbling as he snatched up Keith’s blanket.

 

Before he dropped onto the beanbag, Lance wrapped the blanket across his shoulders like a cape, then fell to his side to curl up even deeper into the fluff. Keith shook his head and crawled alongside Lance to face him, drawing near enough to hold Lance close to his chest. Lance, in turn, tangled his legs with Keith’s and buried himself beneath Keith’s chin.

 

“Teaching you my trade secrets was a dangerous mistake,” Lance grumbled.

 

“So you _don’t_ want head scritches?” Keith asked.

 

“Scratch me, you fool,” Lance griped, earning a snort before Keith complied.

 

For a long while, neither of them said anything. They simply enjoyed the company of the other, not feeling the need to fill the void. It was comfortable in all the right ways, and they wouldn’t have had it any other way.

 

“You know,” Lance mumbled, his voice thick with sleep. “I think it’d be really cool if we hung out more.”

 

Keith ticked his head in thought, still stroking his fingers through Lance’s hair. “You mean, outside of cuddling?”

 

“Yeah,” Lance breathed. “You’re not like my other guests, so it doesn’t feel weird inviting you, you know?”

 

Keith considered this for a moment, drawing courage from the facts that Lance had presented him with so far. Slowly, Keith watched Lance’s expression, not seeing much of a difference as the man dozed beside him.

 

“So… would it be alright if I stopped by the restaurant sometime?” Keith asked, a little hesitant.

 

A smile hummed out of Lance, putting Keith’s anxieties to bed. “I’d like that.”

 

With the answer accepted, Keith nodded to himself and took a few moments to himself to bask in his victory. This was a good risk with an even better outcome. He was glad to have taken it now.

 

“When should I come?” he asked after a few minutes, but no answer came.

 

Slowly, Keith peered down at Lance again and was tickled to find him asleep. Keith chuckled silently at the sight and shook his head, seeing the proof of just how exhausted Lance had become over the past few days. Keith could hardly blame him, and it wasn’t as though he could be angry with Lance either. Lance had been working hard and deserved a break. So, with that in mind, Keith gave him one last scratch, then decided to settle in with Lance as well. If you can’t beat’em, join’em.

 

\---

 

“I’m so glad you decided to join me tonight, Keith,” Coran said with his usual smile. “Normally I don’t go out on holidays but since we’re together, we might as well have a bit of fun and enjoy the festivities with everyone else, right?”

 

Keith shook his head with a small smile, watching the light as they waited for it to turn green. “I’ve been wanting to eat there for a while but I also didn’t want to go alone, so…”

 

Coran nodded as well, understanding. “You figured it would be best to go with someone who’s been?” he asked, earning an affirmative. “Smart choice, my boy. This is one of my most favorite places now, and it’s all thanks to you.”

 

They had had no intention of spending the evening together, yet, there they were. Earlier in the week, Allura had somehow managed to convince Shiro into going out on a double date for the night. It was unclear what kind of voodoo magic the girl had, but it was definitely strong if it brought out Shiro’s mystery man from hiding. Still, that left the single folk alone on their own, which meant that Coran and Keith would be home watching reruns of X-Files and eating cheese whiz from the can. However, once again, Allura worked her magic in convincing the two to go out, and with Keith's desire to see Hunk’s place, it tended to work out in his favor.

 

“Oh, dear,” Coran mumbled.

 

Keith looked up from his thoughts and immediately saw what had shaken Coran. The restaurant itself was lovely, covered in ivy and a beautiful patio off to the side, but what ruined the image of it all was the stuffed parking lot. The place was packed, and no matter where they looked, neither Keith nor Coran could see any available spots.

 

“Well it is Valentine's day,” Keith muttered.

 

“Right,” Coran agreed. “I did get us some reservations but that doesn't really help if we can't get in through the doors, now does it?” Keith was already starting to tense up but Coran was quick to continue. “Don’t worry, we still have fifteen minutes to spare.”

 

Which, they sorely needed. It took another ten minutes before someone left their parking space and by then, Keith was doing all that he could to keep himself calm. The breathing techniques that Lance had taught him were a great help, but the idea of missing a scheduled reservation- one that he had been looking forward to, no less- still kicked at the back of his mind and made him restless. When they finally parked, Keith hurried out to the front of the car and waited impatiently for Coran to follow, immediately making their way to the entrance.

 

The sight behind the doors was just as atrocious. The tables and booths were all occupied with different couples sitting together with candlelight and wine, causing a low roar of communication to roll through the building. The waiting area with the sign asking customers to wait to be seated was void of any hostess, and it was clear to see why with one look into the fray.

 

Scurrying between every table was one very flustered Lance, though he did well to hide it from the customers. With one look, both Coran and Keith could see that Lance was the only server for the entire floor at the moment, and he was working hard to cover it all by himself. He refilled an empty glass here, placed down a tray of food there, rushed to get the side of chocolate strawberries that were _supposed to come with the meal, you incompetent boy!_

 

Keith scowled the longer he stared, not liking the scenes he saw in the slightest. After a few minutes of waiting, Lance finally made it over to the waiting area with an exhausted smile.

 

“Hello, welcome to- Keith?” Lance’s expression went from professional to shocked to happy in the span of a second. “And Coran; my two favorite guys.”

 

“Hello, my boy,” Coran said with a smile. “We did have reservations but it seems that now may not be a good time?”

 

Almost immediately, Lance shook his head. “No, it’s okay, we’re just understaffed again.”

 

“I can see that,” Keith griped, giving the stink eye to one particularly rude customer who had started snapping her fingers at Lance to gain his attention like a dog.

 

Lance winced but smiled anyways. “Yeah, sorry, it’s going to be a little slow tonight. Just the two of you?”

 

“Let me guess,” Coran said instead. “Beezer is being a pain, and Nyma and Rollo skipped out to enjoy the night together.”

 

“Ugh,” Lance didn’t even bother concealing his frustration. “Of course they did. And then Matt already had the night off to take his date out, and Sal- the poor guy had food poisoning and had to be sent home, so Hunk had to call in Shay on _her_ night off in order to help him cook tonight.” He looked to the two men before him, expression serious. “Know anyone looking for work? Hunk’s done with the troublesome trio.”

 

“And it’s about time, too,” Coran agreed. “But that leaves you all on your own tonight. Is Pidge here, at least?”

 

Lance nodded. “Dish duty. Because Beezer called out _too_.”

 

As if on cue, a small woman with a green bandanna came bursting out of the kitchen with an empty tub and set to work rushing about the floor looking for a dirty table to bus. She found one not too far from the three and offered a wave to Coran in recognition, but was too busy shoving all of the dirty dishes into the tub as quickly and carefully as she could to even try for small talk. Without a word, Coran and Keith looked to each other and came to a silent agreement.

 

“Alright. Where do you want us?” Coran asked.

 

“What?” Lance blinked.

 

“We’re helping,” Keith answered. “And you’re not getting out of it.”

 

Immediately, Lance shook his head. “No, I can’t-”

 

“Now is not the time for manners, Lance,” the woman, presumably Pidge practically shouted. “Take them up on the offer before I jump into the power washer myself. We need it.”

 

“But-”

 

“No buts!” The woman looked practically feral as she turned on Lance, the now full bin on her hip. She lowered her voice and grit her teeth so hard it almost looked painful. “Get them some _fucking_ aprons.”

 

With that, she whirled around and ran through a set of swinging doors to the back kitchen, leaving the three men behind.

 

“Listen to the gremlin,” Keith said, once again bashing himself for speaking without thinking, but Lance had spat out a laugh at it, so Keith didn’t feel too bad. “I can clean tables while you wait on them.”

 

“And I’m pretty familiar with the computer systems,” Coran spoke up. “Back in my day, I was practically the computer myself with how well I remembered orders and faces. I can help you serve, greet the people and place them, no problem. Just tell me what to say when I answer the phone.”

 

For a moment, Lance shifted anxiously on his feet, not liking the idea of using his friends and favored customers as canon fodder on such a busy holiday. But then that same, nasty, witch of a customer began to snap her fingers at Lance again and kept calling for the ‘server boy’ to hurry up and come to her table for the fifth time in as many minutes. If given the chance, Lance would have loved to have shoved her special, no-carb diet order right into her face, and it was that violent thought alone that made him realize just how stressed out he was.

 

“Fine. Keith, go through those doors that Pidge did, she’s your boss tonight,” Lance said, then stepped around the podium to usher Coran in. “Lemme show you the phones and computer real quick.”

 

Keith complied immediately and rushed through the swinging doors that Pidge had vanished behind. He took a moment to look around, seeing a very focused man cooking over a flaming stove, and a woman beside him with a plate of fish on it over to one side of the kitchen. On the other, there stood Pidge furiously scrubbing plates and cups as fast as she could before dumping them into a crate that fed into a power washer. Keith made his way over to her and snatched up what looked to be a spare apron from a hook on the wall.

 

“Hey, I’m Keith,” he said, tying the apron around his waist. “Tell me what to do.”

 

“Pidge. Here.” Pidge immediately turned around and dug out a ponytail from her pocket. “First rule of the kitchen is sanitation. Tie that up, then go get me more dishes.”

 

The offered ponytail was quickly put to use and once Keith’s hair was pulled out of the way, he set to work with the empty bin that Pidge had been using before. They worked well together, Keith grabbing any and all empty or used dishes with as much politeness as he could muster for the customers or empty tables, and Pidge washing and preparing whatever dishes, pots and pans she could give to Hunk. Coran was an instant hit with the reservations and walk ins, being his usual, friendly self and working in sync with Lance, who was also just as perfect with the customers in creating the most romantic night possible.

 

It was long, hard and chaotic, but after a night of rushing around with a purpose, Keith could say that he wasn’t nearly as stressed out as he thought that he would be. Obviously, the anxiety with dealing with strangers was still there, but knowing that his actions had a reason behind them settled his nerves, and Keith was able to move on without a hitch. As the night progressed, the chaos began to dwindle down until there was nothing left, all reservations had been filled, and any walk ins had left holding hands with the promise of a nicer night at home. After the final couple left, Lance rushed to lock the door behind them and slid down to the floor with a loud, exhausted sigh.

 

“Never again!” Lance cried. “Hunk, if I ever see any one of those deadbeats again, I’m going to ring their necks!”

 

“And I don’t blame you!” A large, dark man came out of the double doors wiping his hands on a towel and frowning in irritation. “I may just join you. Those three have _got_ to go.” He stopped suddenly when he noticed Keith filling up a bin with dirty dishes. “Okay, I thought I saw a new face around here, but I definitely don’t remember hiring you.”

 

Meekly, Keith wiped his hands on his apron and offered a small wave, but Lance found his energy again and hopped up.

 

“This is Keith!” Lance said excitedly. “He’s the one I was telling you ab-”

 

Suddenly Lance stopped, eyes wide with glee but now wide with shock, smile stiff in comparison to before. Keith eyed the strange change, but Lance was quick to renew his smile and waved a hand to his friend.

 

“Uh, Keith, this is Hunk, my roommate,” Lance said, a little less enthusiastically and still staring at Keith oddly.

 

Hunk shook his head at his deplorable friend’s behavior and offered a hand to Keith. “Pleasure to meet you. Thanks so much for helping tonight.”

 

“No problem,” Keith muttered.

 

There was a glimmer in Hunk’s eye as his smile turned coy. “You looking for a job?”

 

Keith was already shaking his head a little too quickly.

 

“Shame. We could use some more honest folk around here,” Hunk said, giving another smile before he turned around with his arms open wide.

 

“And Coran!” Hunk crowed. “My beautiful, sweet, Coran, Coran, the gorgeous man!” The two men shared a laugh and a hug, and when they pulled away, Hunk held Coran by the shoulders. “Have you eaten yet?”

 

Coran shook his head. “I’m afraid not. It was a rough night, though. Have you anything left in you?”

 

“For you? Anything,” Hunk boasted, then returned to the kitchen to prepare one last meal for the team.

 

Keith slowly followed behind with his tub of dishes, still feeling the burning gaze of Lance across his shoulders as he slipped through the doors and scurried over to Pidge. It took another forty minutes to clean up, but by then, Hunk had fashioned a full blown feast for everyone there. Under his order, Lance had rearranged two of the tables to create one, long line for the group to share, then spread out plates of filet mignon, potatoes, honey-glazed carrots and roasted asparagus for each person. Bottles of wine were also propped up on each table and after a quick look at Keith’s ID, the glasses were poured. Before they dug in, however, Hunk raised his glass.

 

“To you all,” Hunk said. “I couldn’t have done it without you. So thanks; this one’s on me.”

 

“Here, here!” Coran cheered, and everyone else soon followed.

 

With that, everyone fell into their own flow of conversation. The woman who had been plating for Hunk all night leaned over and kissed him on the cheek before whispering something in his ear, making Hunk smile as he cut into his steak. Pidge was already biting into the meat with a ridiculous moan and causing Coran to laugh at her lude display. Keith laughed as well, but Lance was still staring at him, and it kind of ruined the mood. Self consciously, Keith shrank into his shoulders and began to cut into his meal, but the nagging feeling wouldn’t go away, and it was irritating him.

 

“What?” Keith snipped, glaring at a stunned Lance who jolted at being caught staring at Keith’s suddenly exposed neck.

 

“Nothing!” Lance blurted. “I just, uh-” He looked to his lap, rubbing the back of his neck and smiling, a little bashful. “You’re just amazing, is all.”

 

Keith's expression dropped flat. “Right.”

 

“No, no, I'm serious!” Lance insisted. “I know you're not good with strangers, or situations that you can't control, _or_ being rushed for the sake of being rushed.” Lance's eyes softened with his tone. “You hate all of those things and yet not only did you voluntarily dive in head first, you managed to do it really well.” He shrugged, smiling again to his lap. “I don't know, I just. Tonight wasn't ideal in any way and yet somehow, you managed to make everything okay.” He looked up to find Keith’s eyes. “That's pretty amazing.”

 

The irritation melted away from Keith the more that Lance explained, leaving him staring at Lance, clueless on how to react or respond. He returned his attention back to his steak to try and ease some of the discomfort.

 

“I just did what I had to,” Keith mumbled. “Your breathing techniques really helped. So. It wasn’t all me.”

 

Lance scoffed. “It totally was. I wasn’t there, was I?” He continued on before Keith could rebuttal. “You walked yourself through it and did a great job tonight. You’re not getting out of the compliment, dude. Just let it happen.”

 

There was an odd mix between a smirk and a scowl on Keith’s face as he gave Lance a look, but decided not to push through with another argument that neither one of them would win. So, the two simply shared a grin and dove into their meals, but not before Lance leaned over with one last remark.

 

“Hey, so do you normally have a hair tie with you?” he asked.

 

“No, Pidge gave it to me,” Keith said, shaking his head. “Why?”

 

Immediately, Lance leaned over to Pidge and clasped his hands together in a sign of prayer.

 

“Bless you, woman,” Lance hissed.

 

“What the Hell; get off!” Pidge shoved Lance away, causing the rest of the table to laugh at their antics. Keith laughed as well, but the confusion from Lance’s actions lingered. Apparently, Lance really liked sanitation rules.

 

\---

 

When Lance opened the door, he found Keith waiting for him on the other side with tense shoulders and a desperate look in his eyes. His raincoat was drenched and dripping water to the floor, and his fists clenched tightly around an umbrella.

 

“Oh, buddy,” Lance said sympathetically, then opened the door further to usher the man in.

“Rain plus snow equals slush and a very unhappy Keith,” Keith muttered.

 

Right away, Keith set to work taking off his wet raincoat and galoshes while Lance scurried away into the master bedroom. A moment later, Lance returned with Keith's blanket and wrapped it around Keith with a hug from behind, tucking his chin over Keith's shoulder and staying there for good measure. Keith, in turn, closed his eyes as he leaned into Lance's hug and reached up to hold the arms hung around his neck, sighing heavily. For a few minutes, they stayed like this, enjoying the relief and gathering whatever warmth that could be shared.

 

“How are you feeling?” Lance finally asked softly in Keith's ear.

 

“Tired,” Keith answered, eyes still closed.

 

Lance tilted his head to look at Keith but remained on Keith's shoulder. “Drinks?”

 

Keith opened his eyes to turn to Lance as well. “Please.”

 

With that, Lance smiled and guided Keith down the hallway to the kitchen, still hanging off the back of his guest's shoulders.

 

“At least you're dry this time,” Lance tried, noticing that all of the water had attacked the rain gear rather than Keith himself.

 

“That's thanks to Curtis,” Keith sighed. “He suggested that the coat and boots would work much better than the umbrella alone.” He ticked his head as they turned into the kitchen. “He was right.”

 

“And who, pray tell, is Curtis?” Lance asked, then slid his hand down Keith's arm to hold his hand while Lance prepared some hot water. “He sounds smart.”

 

Following Lance’s lead, Keith held onto Lance’s hand as well, but immediately headed towards the cupboard for cider. “He’s Shiro’s boyfriend.”

 

Lance froze, kettle in hand.

 

“The mystery man?” Lance asked, then smiled wickedly when he received a nod. “Ooh, dish!”

 

Keith chuckled as he closed the cupboard, cider packets in hand. “There’s not much to tell, really, but…” He stopped to think, chewing on his lip in the process. “Shiro introduced me to Curtis the other night. It’s the first guy he’s dated in five years.”

 

“Yeah?” Lance paused in gathering the mugs to watch Keith carefully. “How did it go?”

 

For a moment, Keith said nothing. It was a legitimate question that he had been pondering himself ever since meeting the man, and while the majority of his feelings were positive, there were still a few grey areas that needed to be explored.

 

“... Not as bad as I thought it would.” Keith kept his eyes down as he finally let go of Lance to open the cider packets for their mugs. “Apparently, they’ve been dating for a few months, so Curtis got kind of a cheat sheet on knowing about us when nobody else knew about him. That bothered me at first, but, it kind of makes sense with how cautious Shiro has been since the accident, and Curtis himself wasn’t too bad of a guy. Plus…” A small smile worked its way into Keith’s eyes as he looked to Lance. “I haven’t seen Shiro smile like that in a while.”

 

At this, a slip of a grin grew over Lance as well. “Yeah?”

 

“Yeah,” Keith muttered, head tipped down for a moment before coming back up. “I… I think I’m going to like this guy.”

 

The grin spread wider over Lance’s lips. “Well that’s good to hear.”

 

Keith nodded, then turned back around to face the mugs, but his eyes did not linger there. A moment later, the kettle rang out and Lance was coming up beside Keith to pour the hot water for their drinks. As Keith dug out a pair of spoons, Lance finally noticed what had captured his attention when Keith’s eyes slid back over to the crock pot.

 

“You make your mom’s stew again?” Keith asked quietly.

 

“Every time it rains,” Lance said with a smile. Then he cocked a brow. “Wanna try some?”

 

A smile was all the answer that Lance needed, and soon enough, there were two bowls of ropa vieja and rice dished out and served with their cider. Rather than eating in the bedroom this time, the two curled up knee to knee on the couch together and began talking about their week. When Lance started talking about the latest show he had fallen for, Keith excitedly joined him and suggested that they watch the latest episode together since the new season was now on Netflix, appointment be damned. So that’s how it was, half an hour later with bellies full, spread out on top of the other on the couch and pointing out everything they loved and hated about the show.

 

“Eliot is my favorite,” Lance said, tangling their fingers together over his chest. “He’s just so sassy and done with everything. The poor guy needs a hug and I’d be glad to give it to him.”

 

“They all need hugs,” Keith agreed. “My man Queue needs a big one.”

 

Lance chuckled. “I figured he’d be your favorite.”

 

Before Keith could counter him, the soft sound of Lance’s alarm went off, alerting the two of their ten minute warning. Keith’s expression immediately stoned off, not daring to show how disappointed he felt and already sitting up, albeit as slowly as possible. Lance, on the other hand, frowned openly to his phone as he shut off the alarm, then quickly laid back down into Keith’s chest, almost pushing the man down into his couch.

 

“Um?” Keith had his arms up, confused on if he should resume where they had been before, or try sitting up again. “Don’t you have another client coming?”

 

Without a word, Lance waved off the question and shimmied his shoulders into Keith to lower the two of them further.

 

“I keep an hour in between each session to myself, or in case one of my guests needs another session. Now that your session is over, we can hang out as friends for a little while. We’ve got time.” Lance stopped when a thought occurred to him and he looked up to Keith for confirmation. “Uh- if you want to, of course.”

 

“Yeah- of course!” Keith blurted, a little too loudly before reigning back in his excitement. “Lemme just let Shiro know.”

 

Lance smiled brightly. “Sure.”

 

One text later, and they were back at it, enjoying their marathon and the company of the other for as long as they could. Then, about twenty minutes before Lance’s next guest was to arrive, they called to cancel as well. Keith just stared.

 

“Rain ruins everything,” he confirmed with a knowing tone.

 

All Lance could do was agree.

 

And press play for the next episode.

 

\---

 

“YOU VILE FIEND!”

 

The only reasonable response Keith could possibly give was to smile smugly while everyone else in the room burst into laughter. Pidge had tears in her eyes as she leaned heavily into Hunk who was practically folded over onto the floor. Coran was giggling off to the side over his paperwork, and even Shiro and Curtis were snickering over at the bar. Lance, on the other hand, was having none of it.

 

“I can't believe you!” Lance insisted. “Nobody ever beats me on rainbow road!”

 

Keith shrugged, still smiling. “I guess I just have more skill than you.”

 

At that, Lance's eyes bulged and he gasped far too dramatically. “THE BETRAYAL!”

 

“The skill,” Keith said calmly.

 

Hunk and Pidge were about to explode from laughter, but they wouldn't be proper friends if they didn't poke the bear after Lance's horrible defeat. Pidge jumped up to immediately drop to her knees and worship Keith.

 

“Hail, Keith, the rainbow king!” Pidge shouted.

 

Hunk was right on her tail and kneeling beside Pidge, still laughing too hard. “All bow down before the new king!”

 

“You guys are children,” Keith said blandly, then gave the pair a look when they moved to get up. “I didn’t say stop.”

 

Right away, Pidge and Hunk resumed their giggling worship while Lance sulked on the couch. Game night was a tradition most sacred. Having taken down the great Lance at his preferred road on Mario Kart was a historic moment indeed and needed to be celebrated.

 

“You guys are worse than Keith, I thought you loved me,” Lance pouted.

 

“We do love you, Lance,” Hunk said with one last bow.

 

“We just love knocking you down a peg even more,” Pidge finished.

 

Lance turned up his nose. “Be. Trayal.”

 

“Speaking of going down a peg.” Keith held up his controller and leaned his arm back across the back of the couch to give Shiro the side-eye. “I wanna watch Curtis destroy his boyfriend.”

 

Upon hearing the challenge, both Shiro and Curtis were taken aback. For about two seconds.

 

“You heard the man,” Curtis said with a satisfied smirk. “I can't disappoint your brother.”

 

“Oh, so that's how it's gonna be,” Shiro said, standing up from his seat. “Just remember, you asked for it.”

 

Cheers and whoops hollered out of the crew as Shiro and Curtis took over for the next round while Keith and Lance took the abandoned seats at the bar. Pouty as he was, Lance still smiled as he slid in next to Keith to watch the others play, but the similar expression Keith wore caught his attention instead. The smile was there, obviously, but it was softer, more tender. There was a fondness to his eye that was reminiscent of a mother watching her child.

 

Playfully, Lance nudged Keith’s shoulder and greeted him with a smile of his own. “You sure look like you’re having a good time. They haven’t even started yet.”

 

Keith couldn’t even smother down his grin, and instead, looked down to the floor and shrugged. Lance noticed the change, small but evident to him, and he lowered his voice to speak closer to Keith’s ear.

 

“What is it?” Lance asked.

 

Still smiling to the floor, Keith shook his head. “Nothing, just… I'm really happy right now.”

 

The answer so so soft, so genuine, it made a warmth grow in Lance’s chest. Something he had grown accustomed to with Keith in the last year. “Me too.”

 

After a few more rounds of failing to pass Curtis on any of the selected roads, it was announced that Coran had finished with the character sheets for a one shot D&D session. It took another twenty minutes for everyone to pick the pre-made characters and settle the rules, but in the end, the group went on to play a battle royal that ended with blood and laughter. To everyone’s surprise, Pidge completely demolished everyone in the imaginary game and boasted her victory through the night because no one could believe a gnome had defeated a barbarian, but that she did. Curtis would learn to forgive her with time.

 

Pidge was still grinning smugly even as she and Coran walked out the door to head home, and even offered a two-fingered salute to Curtis in farewell once the night was over. Shiro couldn’t keep from smiling just as coyly at his boyfriend’s defeat, but it was Keith who had reminded him that Shiro was the first to die in the game, which only made Curtis laugh.

 

“I’m just saying,” Curtis grinned, putting on his coat. “Second place isn’t half bad.”

 

“Yeah, yeah,” Shiro grumbled, but the smile was still there. “I guess I’m going to have to get used to second place with you around, aren’t I?”

 

Curtis cocked a brow at Shiro. “Baby, you didn’t win second place. You lost. Badly.”

 

“I think I’m okay with that,” Shiro said, genuine and soft before smirking. “But next time, I’m crushing you.”

 

This made Curtis smirk just as devilishly. “Looking forward to it.”

 

Behind them, Keith rolled his eyes so hard that it made him a little dizzy, gaze landing on Lance to share a look of their own. With a chuckle, Keith shook his head and finished slipping on his shoes.

 

“Hey, thanks for coming tonight,” Lance said. “It was a lot of fun.”

 

“Yeah,” Keith agreed, expression just as soft as Lance’s. “Thanks for inviting us.”

 

“No problem!” Lance’s smile was beaming, so much so that it made Keith’s smile widen too. “We should do it again sometime.”

 

Keith nodded. “Sounds good.”

 

The almost bashful shared chuckle was what brought the other three men in the room together. Shiro and Curtis shared a look, and when they looked up to find Hunk, he was giving the same expression to Lance. The added attention to him made Hunk look up to the couple in his doorway, and all at once, it was agreed that they all saw the exact same thing. And neither Lance nor Keith were going to do anything about it.

 

“I’ll see you in a couple days,” Lance said with a pat to Keith’s shoulder. Again, Keith nodded and bid his faewarells as he and his guests shuffled out through the door. As Lance locked the door behind them, he took a moment to himself to enjoy the feeling in his chest before turning around to find Hunk with his arms crossed and an expectant look on his face. Lance deflated.

 

“I saw that,” Hunk said. “I saw _all_ of that.”

 

Lance closed his eyes with a tired sigh and headed back into the apartment. “Please don’t.”

 

“Then do something about it,” Hunk encouraged, but Lance only scoffed as he passed by.

 

“Come on, Hunk, he’s not like other guys I’ve gone after before.” Lance set to work on the game station in the living room, trying to clean up for the night before bed. “First off, he’s a guest. Second, he’s not a romantic and he probably won’t notice or feel anything for me for at least another year if I’m lucky.”

 

Hunk was not impressed. “That’s not what I saw.”

 

Lance shook his head, eyes focused on the task a hand. “You don’t see Keith like I do.”

 

“I don’t think anybody does and I don’t think they ever will,” Hunk said, making Lance stop to look at him. He gave Lance another unimpressed stare, arms crossed still. “You know each other better than anyone else and you both made it that way. By design or accident, it doesn’t matter, because it still happened regardless. You know he won’t do that for just anyone.” Hunk cocked his brow again pointedly. “And neither will you.”

 

\---

 

Lance looked a wreck. The moment he opened the door, he didn’t even try for a smile. He was too worked up over something, and the fact that Keith could practically feel the discomfort coming off of him in waves put Keith on alert just as instantly.

 

“Lance?” Keith asked. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

 

Now Lance was biting his lip, still not saying anything as he lowered his head and stepped aside to let Keith into the apartment. Keith’s skin was crawling by now, something was definitely wrong.

 

“Um,” Lance tried, still staring desperately to the floor as he nervously ran his fingers through his hair. “I need to talk to you about something important.”

 

If Keith’s alarm bells were ringing before, they were downright blaring now. “Okay? What is it?”

 

Silently, Lance held his arm out to the room again, allowing Keith to head for the bedroom before himself, and they settled into the twin arm chairs along the side of the wall. For a few moments, Lance sat quietly, trying to find the right words and wringing his fingers tightly. It made Keith even more on edge, but he waited for Lance to speak nonetheless. Lance always had something to say. He was never speechless.

 

“Okay, look,” Lance finally started, lifting his eyes to Keith’s. They were so full of guilt that it took Keith’s breath away. “I have to quit.”

 

Keith’s heart stopped. “What?”

 

Blue eyes fell to the floor again. “I can help you find a good replacement, but I can’t be your cuddle therapist anymore. This is going to be our final session.”

 

There was no air left in Keith’s lungs. Lance was leaving. Lance… was _leaving_. Lance, his therapist. Lance, his rock. Lance, who had been a staple in Keith’s life for most of the past year, who had brought him friendship, stability, peace and other feelings that were confusing and annoying to deal with. Now Keith would have to figure out everything all on his own again. It just wasn’t fair.

 

Anger and fear and panic began to bubble up in Keith’s gut. This just wasn’t fair; why was this happening? Why was Lance going away? Why was Keith being left alone?

 

“Why?” Keith asked, not sure which of the many questions that he was asking for.

 

The missing air seemed to find its way to Lance because he took a deep breath, still looking more scared than ever when he brought his gaze back to Keith. “I can’t be your cuddle therapist anymore because I’d really like to take you out to dinner and that’s totally unprofessional.”

 

Oh. _Oh…_

 

Now Keith’s heart had stopped for a completely different reason. Even the questions swirling around in his head had frozen, and he was left with a blank expression over his face as he tried to process the empty space in his head. It took him a few moments to realize what had been said, and as he did, Lance sat watching him with growing despair the longer Keith stayed silent.

 

“Well now I’m torn,” Keith said quietly, but it still made Lance flinch. “I don’t want another therapist but I really want to go to dinner with you.”

 

Now it was Lance’s turn for the blank screen face. The words repeated themselves in his head over and over again, but Lance still couldn’t understand what they were saying. It wasn’t possible. It couldn’t have been that easy. But it had been.

 

Slowly, a smile crept into Lance’s eyes but he forced himself to remain casual and keep some form of professionalism, whatever little shred he had left for the man sitting before him at least.

 

“How about a compromise?” Lance asked, leaning his elbows on his knees and steepling his fingers. “Dinner with me, and if it stays serious, I’ll be an extra cuddly boyfriend?”

 

The smile in his eyes finally broke loose to Lance’s lips as Keith’s smile grew over his own face. He simply couldn’t keep from smiling at such a lovely face, and Keith seemed to feel the same way if his expression said anything. Without a word, Keith extended his hand to Lance and grabbed hold for a shake, his eyes never leaving Lance’s as their smile widened still.

 

“Deal.”

  
  
  


 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I've wanted to do something sweet like this for a while and this story has been stuck in my head for MONTHS. I'm so glad I could finally get it out. Hopefully I can get the rest of my stories out as well.
> 
> And yes. Once I'm healthy enough, I totally want to become a cuddle therapist too. It's a real thing.
> 
> Let me know what you think? I love talking with you guys.


End file.
